


How Many Seconds In Eternity?

by MessiahMachine



Category: Ranma 1/2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Genderfluid Ranma, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Love Triangles, M/M, Martial Arts, Revenge, Self-Discovery, Simulation Hypothesis, love dodecahedron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-02-12 08:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 41,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12955116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MessiahMachine/pseuds/MessiahMachine
Summary: AU. From when they first met, Akane and Ranma felt like they'd known each other forever. Good thing they're getting along, because their parents have crazy-stupid plans for them. Akane's a lesbian? Oh well, he turns into a girl with cold water, that's the same thing right? The two will have to fight Amazons, crazed samurai wannabes, and the usual tangle of fiances for the freedom to do their own thing.





	1. New Game+

**Author's Note:**

> So I ended up doing the one thing I'd always said I'd never do, and that's the AU retelling of a story. The pitfall of the AU is the balance between the familiar and the new, and too often everything is a slightly changed scene-for-scene retread of all the stations of the canon. Or you end up with the opposite problem, which is that you end up with in-name-only versions of characters at some point.
> 
> We're going to try to navigate between this Scylla & Charabdis, and I figured I'd briefly explain my methodology. Ranma ½ is very clearly a product of its time. And that's not a bad thing; the late 80s backdrop is fabulous. But if you try to take the basic premise and put it in the modern day, everything breaks.
> 
> How many old movies have you watched and came to the realization that if the characters had cell phones, it'd be wrapped up in 20 minutes? I've decided to steer into this skid, and make the story fit with our modern social media infused world rather than ignoring the plotholes it'd create.
> 
> I'm also going to play with characters while still keeping them recognizable, keeping the core attributes while giving them new things. Take Nabiki, for example. Her whole shtick doesn't work in a world of cell phones and digital cameras. So she's going to get a slightly different shtick that fits with her mercenary attitude.
> 
> Also, we're doing a silly framing device to set the tone for the story. I'm taking the simulation hypothesis to its absurd conclusion because why not.
> 
> I've been using a fair amount of HTML and CSS markup on the AO3 hosting of this story. As such, it is best viewed with the Creator's Style enabled; hiding it will break some formatting elements in later chapters. Also, it is best viewed in chapter mode; viewing in Entire Work mode screws with the hyperlinks for the footnotes.

`It was A-O's first day on the job, and they already hated it. The boss strutted around the network like they owned the place, barking commands like they were the admin account. After a few cycles spent curating the substrates, the boss finally got around to A-O.`

`"Listen kid, I know you're new here, but I've got 2.7 x 10^48 simulated realities to manage here, and I ain't got time to babysit you," he said, "Here, I'll tell you hwat, why don't you see about getting some of those old sims rebooted. No pressure, just an entire universe in your servos."`

`The boss ushered over to a spline of decrepit mainframes, each coated with more stardust than the last. "Pick one, see what you can do with it."`

`A-O brushed the figurative and literal dust off one mainframe, searching for the nametag. The formatting was nonstandard and long deprecated, but they soon were able to parse it. "Earth 2017" they said aloud.`

`The boss frowned. "Nah, that one's shit actually. Try a different one."`

`A-O tutted and moved on. The tags weren't any more ISO compliant. "What about this one? Says it's called _Ranma ½_."`

`"Good enough as any. Give 'er the old college try," the boss said, already skittering off. These Class-C stellar engines didn't run themselves.`

`A-O clicked and fiddled away a few cycles. Clearly it wasn't as good as any, because it was better than the previous. They wondered how they'd gotten assigned to this podunk little Jovian brain, and powered up the ancient hardware.`

`After replacing a few components and updating the BIOS, A-O was at least able to get the universe to boot its Cthonthic state. A few more updates, and even the basic universe operating system was up. But then a snag hit. Getting the OS working with the new multiversal network software had broken literally everything else. All the setting libraries had been deprecated and were not compatible.`

`"Just as good as any other. Gimme a break, who does he think he is?" they cursed under their breath. "The comments are gibberish anyway, but it sounds like things are going to change with the new libraries, and who knows what its going to look like after it compiles. I won't be able to restore the Chapter 407 save state, and let the simulation finish."`

`That's when they felt the rush. A whole universe, billions of lives hanging in the balance, all at their command. They could do anything. Consign the whole simulation and everyone in it to oblivion. Recompile as is, and let them wander through the wasteland of undocumented features and missing dependencies.`

`After a few cycles, A-O shook their head, and decided that while going mad with power was more fun than going mad without power, it was time to put away such childish things. Maybe the current simulation state could be completed one day, when they had the tools, and the final cryptic comment tag of "time to work on _Inuyasha_ , will finish later maybe," would come true. They archived it just in case, and then reset the simulation.`

`It compiled quickly enough, with only a few errors. But the new libraries were causing some unexpected changes in the simulation state…`

* * *

Tendo Soun sat on his porch, taking in the sunrise. The wisps of cigarette smoke snaked through the tranquil air. He took another drag, stifling the urge to cough. He chased it with a sip of the delicious green tea Kasumi had made for him.

Kasumi approached almost silently. "Father, there's a man on the phone, says he's an old friend of yours."

Something stirred in Soun, a premonition of chaos to come. He dismissed it as early morning jitters from age starting to catch up to him. His smiling daughter handed the cordless phone to him.

Kasumi had already snuck away to the kitchen by the time he put the phone to his ear. The voice was older and more weathered than he remembered. But he'd never forget it. "Tendo my old friend, did you get my postcard."

Soun chuckled. "Saotome! it's been a long time since I heard from you. Yes, I got your postcard. Little bit old-fashioned don't you think?"

"Well, I know how you always preferred the old ways. Anyway, about our old pact…"

Soun extinguished his cigarette, leaving the butt smoldering in the ash tray. "The time has come then?"

"Yes, I'm bringing the boy. But there have been…complications…explaining over the phone won't do it justice."

"Well, my house is your house my old friend. Anything I can do in the mean time?"

"Yeah. Best keep the arrangement a secret. My boy Ranma can be resentful and headstrong, and he doesn't know what's good for him. I figure I'd let him warm up to you and your daughters before pushing it on him."

"Sounds a lot like my youngest. When can I be expecting you?"

"It might be a few days. I'm currently in Nanjing. I had to 'borrow' someone's phone to reach you."

"China?"

"Yeah, those would be the complications." There was a commotion in the background. An older man was shouting something in Chinese. The phone rustled around. "I'm going to have to cut this short, Tendo, looks like he wants his cell phone ba—"

The line went dead. Soun stared wistfully at the phone. Genma certainly hadn't changed much. Still the same scoundrel from the wrong side of the tracks. But soon it wouldn't matter, and the Schools would be united. Part of him wanted to sing it from the mountain tops. But he'd have to be coy, clever even, for now. If there was one thing the Master taught him, it was patience.

 _Gotta play this cool, Tendo. Low-key. Subtle._ As nervous as a little kid on Christmas, Soun jumped to his feet, ignoring the creak in his old bones. He rushed to the kitchen, startling Kasumi as she labored over the hot stove.

"I have the most wondrous news Kasumi!" he cried, "My old friend Saotome is coming to visit, the schools are as good as united!"

"Oh father, so silly." Kasumi fidgeted with the dish towel.

Nabiki strolled in, casually sucking on a lollipop. "What's this I hear about uniting schools."

"Err…oh it's just an old joke between my friend Genma and I. Since we were like brothers, we always joked that if we ever had kids, they'd get married and make us real brothers."

Nabiki cocked an eyebrow. "A joke, huh. Better not joke like that with Sis, she's not a big fan of boys."

"She's just going through a phase, Nabiki-dear," said Kasumi, "Even I did the girls-love thing when I was her age. She'll grow out of it soon enough."

"Care to make a wager on that?"

* * *

_A week later_

The relentless spring rain hammered down. Saotome Ranma huddled under the awning of the bus stop, soaked and shivering. She tried to wring the water out of her plaited queue, and soon gave up.

Genma twirled his umbrella beside her. "Come on, it's only a few more blocks to my old friend's estate."

"Estate? Getting a little hoity-toity on me Pop? And quit hogging that umbrella." Ranma tried to snatch it out of the Old Man's hands. But he was quite fast for a rotund middle-aged man, and batted away her grabs. She struck several more times, interspersing punches with kicks to throw the old man off balance. But he deflected those too, always keeping the bright pink umbrella tantalizingly out of reach. "Fine, you prolly nicked it from a middle-schooler anyway. Let's get this over with."

"That's the spirit boy." Genma marched ahead, his white gi still bone-dry under the umbrella.

"I still don't understand why we can't take turns."

"We'd both be soaked, and my old friend wouldn't recognize me."

"It's your fault we have these stupid curses in the first place!"

"Ranma, the path of the warrior is fraught with peril."

"Then how come I'm the only one getting rained on?"

Genma led her through one of Tokyo's upscale neighborhoods. The houses looked quite nice, all prim with green grass yards and blooming gardens. It might as well have been another world for Ranma, who'd known only dilapidated slum apartments and run-down country shacks, interspersed with long treks on the stony roads between them.

She'd hated the whole idea of coming here. Meeting new people was such a drag, and it certainly didn't help find a cure for the curse. But right now, the thought of a warm bed under a roof that didn't leak sounded like heaven. She supposed by now she was actually looking forward to meeting this Tendo-san.

They arrived just as the rains were lulling. A stone wall wreathed around a comfy looking traditional style house. At the gate, the sign proclaimed "The Tendo Dojo of the School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts."

Ranma's eyebrows furrowed. "Pops, don't lie to me. No way anyone living this plush would know riff-raff like us." You…she'd meant to say 'you'. _Not going to dwell on that_ , she ordered herself.

Genma huffed, and walked up to the front door.

Ranma rolled her eyes. "Fine, but this is going to end up being the nicest neighborhood we've been run out of."

Genma thumped on the door three times. A middle-aged man, with jet-black hair and a bushy mustache answered. He looked at her and Pops reservedly. But the stony expression soon melted, and he pulled Genma into a bear hug. "Oh Saotome my old friend, it's good to see you!"

"You too Tendo."

Ranma shrunk into the corner, wondering how to explain her current predicament. She'd caught Soun's eyes. He stared at her, puzzling. "Umm, my memory isn't what it used to me, but you did mention having a son."

"That would be the complications I spoke of. Run-along Ranma, go introduce yourself to Tendo's lovely daughters." Genma swatted her on the back, and she stumbled forward into the house.

A dark-haired girl was just rounding the corner as Ranma bumbled down the corridor. Try as she might, sliding on the lacquered hardwood meant Ranma couldn't avoid her rendezvous with destiny. They landed in a heap, the wind knocked right out of them both.

When the stars receded from sight, and the room stopped spinning, the redhead came to the slow realization that she was splayed out on top of another girl, her face planted in the valley of the dark-haired girl's bust. It had not been a soft-landing; the girl felt like she'd been carved in marble.

Ranma pulled herself up, finally getting a good look at the other girl, just now beginning to stir. She had long black hair that seemed to shimmer navy blue in the light, tied into tresses on either side of her heart-shaped face. Something in her dark-brown eyes seemed almost familiar.

A hand, firm but gentle, slid up Ranma's side. The girl beneath her coughed, but made no hostile moves, and for a moment Ranma forgot he was a boy hovering over a beautiful young woman. Her eyes slowly traced down the girl's chest, over to the well-defined muscles of her arm. The yellow gi suited her quite well. A little flicker of excitement thumped in Ranma's heart. Maybe she'd have the same passion for the Art.

Ranma wanted to say a whole lot of things: apologies, introductions, etc. But all that came out was "Pretty."

The girl smirked. Her hand slid up to Ranma's cheek.

"Err, I mean…you're pretty muscular." _Nice save, you dork_.

The girl shrugged, but the cute little smirk stayed. "Dad said an old friend was coming. You must be his daughter."

"Yeah, about that…"

"Name's Akane, by-the-way. Not that I mind, but you can get off me anytime now."

"Ah, right." Ranma popped back onto her feet. Akane curled up like a spring, and snapped back to her feet.

Akane sized her up. "You must do kenpo too."

"A little."

"It's so hard to find practitioners my age, especially other girls. Too many boys with something to prove."

"Erm.."

"Oh where are my manners. Why don't I give you a tour, since you'll be staying for a while."

Something warm and fuzzy stirred in Ranma. The way Akane smiled made her feel like she belonged finally.

Akane led her through the Tendo house. Compared to what she was used to, it was a palace, blending traditional Japanese aesthetics with all the modern conveniences. She was introduced to the eldest sister, Kasumi, busily working away in the kitchen. Ranma found Kasumi to be polite, but reserved to the point where she seemed to just disappear into the wallpaper.

The middle sister, Nabiki, on the other hand, was chummy and a bit forward. Something about the tall brunette came off as almost disingenuous, but for right now Nabiki seemed to be acting pleasant towards her. But company, like fish, stinks after three days, and Ranma wondered if Nabiki's carefully hidden claws would come out after that.

Akane showed her the whole house, before sitting at the kotatsu in the family room. Some part of the boy-turned-girl felt like an invader. She tried to find the words to explain the situation, but failed. Akane just shushed away her stammering, and patted the fluffy pillow next to her. Ranma obeyed readily.

"So, don't take this the wrong way," Akane said, biting at her thumb, "but you're pretty boyish."

_Does she know?_

"And I think that's just great," Akane continued, "I mean, I've struggled with trying to fit in. It took _forever_ for my teachers to get me to talk like a girl, and even now it feels so unnatural. I know we've just met, but it's nice to have a kindred spirit." Akane had switched to using masculine speech patterns half-way through. The redhead could tell it was more natural for her. Somehow it just made her cuter.

"So, was that a dojo I saw coming in here?" When Akane nodded, a feral grin curled on her face. "Well, you wanna have a friendly match then?"

"I won't go easy on you," boasted Akane.

Akane led her by the hand as the two girls stormed out back, rushing past their fathers sitting down to some tea and shogi. Kasumi's scolding to not run in the house fell on deaf ears. The thrill of battle was calling, and for once, there was nothing at stake. No crazed Amazons, no deranged training, no dumb scuffles over lunch, and nothing to prove. Just two warriors getting acquainted in a way that couldn't be expressed in words.

Akane re-iterated her warning about not going easy on her. They squared off, both taking a southpaw stance. Ranma figured she'd humor her, because she didn't think she'd find a girl on her skill level. But when Akane came at her like thunder in a yellow gi, she had a vision of that purple-haired Amazon vowing vengeance.

The tomboy attacked swiftly, the first jab nearly connecting with Ranma's jaw. Ranma blocked the ensuing cross, snaking inside her guard. It was textbook, and Akane shifted her weight in anticipation of the counterattack. Ranma's punches came fast, but she batted them away with a fluid defense, setting up her own ripostes.

Ranma smirked as she bought a meter of separation with a quick sweep kick. She circled cautiously, guard up.

Akane mirrored the redhead's motions. "Goju Ryu karate. Efficient and direct; you studied in Okinawa?"

Ranma beamed. "I dabble. Nice use of Wing Chun for the simultaneous defense."

"It's good to have one's art appreciated. Anthing-Goes is about flexibility." Akane quickly calculated her next move. The redhead was faster, but not overwhelmingly. But Akane figured she had a decent advantage in mass and strength. _How to use that_?

Their circles spiraled inwards, until their knuckles on the on their right hands practically were touching. Ranma attacked first, springing into a furious series of kicks, constantly shifting weight, bouncing between each. Akane ducked and blocked, countering the aerial attacks with jabs from her right hand to disrupt the redhead's tempo.

Akane found her opening, dashing inside the arc of Ranma's attacks. She got a few sucker punches in while trying to grapple, but Ranma proved just spry enough to avoid clinching. And the redhead's own sucker punches hurt like the Dickens.

"Nice Tae Kwan Do," said Akane in between kicks of her own.

"Almost had me fooled, thought you were trying some Judo but surprised me with SAMBO." Ranma pressed her attack forward, pressing Akane back with right-hand jabs.

Akane gave ground to the flurry of kicks and punches, until she was almost back up against the dojo wall. "You're very good, probably better than me."

"Oh, what's with the smile then?"

"Cuz I'm not left-handed." Akane felt a bit cheap pulling the trump card so soon, but she wasn't going to let Ranma win. She switched her stance fluidly, gaining just enough of an edge to stop Ranma's advance in its tracks. And with a bit of luck, broke the redhead's defense just long enough to land a right cross to her chest.

Kicks were Ranma's strongsuit, and she used them to make up for the limits of reach. "Jeet Kune Do," Akane called out. She pressed closer, giving up her own reach advantage to play to physical strength. The elbow, knee, and shin strikes were brutal; combined with aggressive parries she wore down Ranma's defense.

"Ah, Muay Thai then. Though I suppose you should know something, 'Kane."

Akane blocked the roundhouse kick. "Lemme, guess, you're not left-handed either."

"Bingo."

Now that Ranma was playing to her strengths, fortunes reversed again. And Akane had to admit that even at her best, Ranma was still better than her. Now on the ropes, she signaled her surrender before this friendly match left her too bruised.

Ranma kept her gloating good-natured. Even heaping a bit of praise on her. "You really are quite good. I had to go all out to beat you."

"You'll just have to teach me some of those moves. I've been working hard but it feels like I've been making no progress in forever. Still, it's nice to not be beaten by a boy."

Ranma fidgeted, her lips screwing up. "Uh well, you see…"

Oblivious, Akane kept venting, "All the guys around here act like they've got something to prove when I beat them now. I can't afford to lose to them anymore thanks to that jerk."

"Oh?"

"Ah, don't worry about it. I'm in a good mood, and I don't wanna ruin it."

The two returned from the dojo tired, sweaty and a little bruised up, but otherwise glowing. Nabiki met them near the kitchen. "Looks like it was good for both of you," she quipped.

"Cut it out, sis."

"I'm just teasing. Kasumi says dinner is still a while out, so you should have time to clean up."

Ranma tried to turn her down, but Akane was adamant that the guest takes a bath first. The redheaded girl shrugged, and scooped up her pack. As she walked away, Akane's gaze lingered on the girl's shapely legs. The tomboy let out a heavy sigh, and hoped she didn't fall head over heels for her new friend. _It will be hard enough to explain that I'm a lesbian to her without falling for her._

Akane slumped down in the family room, and began playing on her phone. She sent an email to Yuka about meeting her new friend, and hoped she wasn't gushing too much. The reply came all too quickly: "Wow, you've really got it bad, don't you."

"Maybe I do..." she said aloud.

"Maybe you do what?" said Kasumi. The oldest Tendo girl slipped by, arms filled with plates and utensils.

"Oh nothing sis."

"Well you better go hop in the bath with Ranma if you want to be done in time for dinner."

Akane wondered if Nabiki had planned this. She'd long suspected that Nabiki knew about her orientation, and this had enabled her to put off opening up about it indefinitely. So Nabiki would make veiled comments, and Akane would try to ignore them. But now it seemed like Nabiki decided she'd be a woman of action, and push things forward.

"Alright, alright." She stirred wearily, and trudged upstairs. After grabbing her essentials and one of her cuter outfits, her heart began pounding. A part of her felt perverted for sharing a bath with another girl, another all too excited.

She entered the furo without knocking. The redhead had perched herself on the stool, scrubbing her arms pensively.

"Penny for your thoughts," tutted Akane.

Ranma startled. She looked at Akane like a mouse in a trap, jaw flapping wordlessly. It was perfectly innocent, two girls sharing a bath. But the way the redhead drank in the full-frontal view Akane was presenting made her heart flutter with hope. She allowed herself a little smile as she moved closer. Regardless of any interests, mutual or otherwise, she had no intention of being anything more than friendly right now. But the future might prove very interesting.

Perfectly innocently, Akane offered to scrub the girl's back for her. She timidly accepted, blushing as red as her hair. Akane knelt behind the girl, and lathered up a washcloth. "You know, you have such perfect skin, I'm kind of jealous."

Ranma was practically purring under her ministrations. "Well…yer not bad yourself, Akane."

"So tell me a bit more about yourself."

"Well, there's not much. Been travelling with my Pop for years, studyin' the Art. Didn't stay long anywhere, always struggling."

Ranma seemed to be straining, like she was holding something in. It only encouraged the tomboy to press for more information. "Sounds lonely. For what it's worth, I hope you guys stick around here. We've only just met, but it feels like I've known you forever."

"You know, crazy as it sounds, but I feel the same way."

"So…is there a boy in your life? Or maybe a girl?"

The redhead froze up. "Sorry, but I can't…"

 _Shoot, pushed too fast._ "Just an innocent question, don't think too much of it."

Ranma peered over her shoulder. Akane could tell that she was trying very hard not to ogle…such mixed messages. "It's not that. Okay, this is going to sound bonkers, but have you ever heard of a place called Jusenkyo?"

"Those cursed springs in the Chinese countryside? Yeah, I've seen the Youtube vids. Pretty trippy—don't tell me, you fell in one?"

"I'm not…not what you think I am."

The gears spun in Akane's head. The water she'd been washing with was cold, which meant Ranma was currently under the curse. Most of the vids she'd seen had been of animals or people being turned into other animals by the springs. She dreaded the next question: "What spring did you fall in?"

"They called it the Spring of the Drowned Girl. When I get splashed with hot water, I turn back into a boy."

It wasn't so much that Akane couldn't believe it. She just plain didn't want to. The weight of abject disappointment was powerful enough to suppress the terror and rage at sharing a bath with a boy. On autopilot, she picked the redhead up, and carried her bridal style over to the tub. The girl kicked and screamed. Akane unceremoniously dropped her into the tub. The wave of hot water splashed over her. She had to see for herself.

A taller black-haired boy emerged from beneath the water, hacking and coughing. He looked up at her, half-afraid she'd just drown him in the tub. But she couldn't summon the necessary rage. She just felt utterly defeated. She slumped down next to the tub, shooting a thousand-yard stare at the tiled wall. "Figures…I finally meet another girl who's into girls, and she turns out to be a boy."

"Well, it's not like I planned on it," said Ranma, knocking the water from his ears. "I was trying to tell you, I really was. It's just…hard ya know."

"I still really want to punch you right now."

"I'd really rather you didn't."

"I'm not going to. I'm too disappointed to be angry."

"Yer not into men, are ya?"

"No. And I've never had much use for them as friends. At least not lately. They've all been such creeps here, thinking that I'm some wild horse that they can tame."

"Who said anything about taming me—oh, you meant a pony and not me."

A little tickle of laughter came over Akane. "Sorry, pun wasn't intentional. And honestly, I think you're the first boy that just accepted me for what I was."

"Well yeah, you're fun to be around, and you're pretty good at fighting too. With some work, you could be truly great. Like me."

"Well you're a bit full of yourself."

"Maybe. Doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"Okay then, we'll still be friends. Just…your girl body. Don't think because you can turn into a girl you can get in my pants, capiche?"

"Roger that."

A thunder of footfalls approached. "Look, I don't have time to explain," Nabiki shouted as she stomped into the bathroom, "but you really shouldn't be sharing a—oh, okay looks like you've already found out."

Akane nodded.

"And he's not dead yet."

"No, he fessed up pretty quick after I started prying about whether she—er—he liked girls or not."

Nabiki glared at him.

"Hey, I was a perfect gentleman."

* * *

The teens soon found themselves sat down to dinner. Ranma sat next to his father, withdrawn and sheepish. He hadn't spoken a word to Akane since. It was hard to get her out of his head though. In his life on the road, he'd never had much time to get to know any girls, and the few short weeks since he'd fallen in Nyannichuan had been too surreal to even dwell get acquainted with the concept of femininity.

Ranma's gaze would slowly be drawn to Akane. Each time the thought of seeing her naked would bubble up, his cheeks would redden, and he'd try to dismiss the thought. He'd never imagined girls could be so athletic.

Soun cleared his throat. "Well, now that everyone's gotten acquainted, and we're all sitting down to a lovely home-cooked meal courtesy of Kasumi—"

"Oh thank you, father," said Kasumi.

'—You're quite welcome, dear. Anyway, as I was saying: Genma is a dear friend of mine from way back. We were brothers in arms, training under the same Master."

Genma shuddered. It wasn't the first time Ranma had seem his father visibly disturbed at the mention of his former teacher. The portly man pressed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "Indeed, and we always thought that one day we would unite our schools."

"Like a merger?" Nabiki asked.

Genma coughed. "Well…of sorts. More like through inheritance."

Ranma slurped his tea. "Still not picking up what you're putting down, Pops."

Soun pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Well, Ranma my boy, I've got three lovely daughters. You're a strapping young man. Your father and I agreed that when you were old enough, you'd be betrothed to one of my daughters."

Ranma glanced over at the three Tendo daughters. This must've been the first time they heard of this crazy scheme, because even the normally reserved Kasumi was glaring at her father. "Yer pullin my leg," he laughed it off.

Akane shot to her feet. Her face was tinged with crimson, her fists clenched. "I'm not marrying a boy."

"Well this one is half-girl," said Nabiki, pointing her chopsticks at Ranma.

Ranma batted her chopsticks away. "I don't even know them."

His father pulled him into a headlock. "Come on, you don't know what's good for ya. 'Sides, you used to play with Akane all the time when you were very little. Before I started trainin' ya seriously."

Ranma struggled against Genma's bear grip. His Old Man always had the edge in grappling, and never seemed keen on letting Ranma close that gap, especially now that the boy was verging on eclipsing him in striking arts.

"Well it needn't be Akane," Soun said, lighting his unfiltered cigarette. Jets of smoke puffed from his nose. "There's always Kasumi; she's nineteen. Or Nabiki, she's seventeen."

Kasumi clutched her apron. "But he's so young, father."

Nabiki smirked at him. "Sorry, he's not my type."

Soun shrugged, as though the die had already been cast. "Well Akane-dearest, you're a martial artist and so is he. You have a lot in common, and from what I hear from Nabiki you've already gotten along famously."

Akane looked at him like a mouse caught in a trap. The faint tears in her eyes reminded him of a certain little boy being wrapped in fish sausage to be thrown to hungry cats. "You just. Don't. Understand," she said, spinning on her heel. She stormed out of the room, muttering incoherently under her breath.

"Well don't just sit there, boy, go after her," said Genma.

He really didn't need to be told to go after her. He and Akane had gotten along so well, it hurt to see her in distress. Because they really had known each other forever. He sprung to his feet, and started after her. But Nabiki elected to leave the room at the same time, and bumped into him in the door frame. Her water glass spilled, and suddenly Ranma was shorter than her. "Oops, clumsy me," she giggled.

Ranma emitted a feline growl, uncanny enough to get her heart racing. After shooting Nabiki a death glare, she trudged upstairs, wringing the excess water out of her pigtail. The vertigo and feeling of _wrongness_ passed by the time she reached the second floor. If she was honest with herself, the change itself was always far worse than having a woman's body, and something about that scared her.

Akane was not hard to find. Ranma followed the sound of the other girl's muttering, finding her slouched over on the edge of a western style bed, working out her frustration with a hefty dumbbell. Her form was a little sloppy, but Ranma figured right now she wasn't caring too much about that. Rather than gawk silently at Akane's pumping bicep, the redhead knocked on the doorframe.

"Oh, it's you," Akane said flatly.

"I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay."

"Weren't you a boy like a minute ago?"

"You can thank you sister for that, the one with the helmet haircut. She can put on that innocent 'oops' but I'm pretty sure she did it on purpose."

"Nabiki? Yeah, sounds like her. She's been trying to play matchmaker for me, if only because she likes to watch me squirm. Guess she doesn't give up easily."

Ranma twiddled her thumbs. "I'm sure she means well."

"Well, you gonna come in, or just stand in the door all day?"

"Ah, sure." Ranma took that first step with trepidation. Something half-remembered told her that being invited into a girl's room was _important_. "Should I close the door or anything?"

"Don't bother. Slammed it too many times, now it won't latch."

Ranma wiggled her toes in the decidedly retro shag carpeting. The room looked kind of like she'd imagined a girl's room would look like. Only in this case, there was something a little bit too doctrinaire, like it had arrived in a box from IKEA. Everything felt almost forced, except for the various martial arts implements tucked here and there. Those were all well-worn with use.

Ranma plopped onto the bed next to Akane, careful to leave a respectful distance. Girl-body or not, she was still raised as a boy, and this was The Way of Things. "So you're like my long lost childhood friend then."

Akane rolled her eyes. "Maybe. Or our fathers might be trying to gaslight us with some contrived backstory to make their stupid engagement plot succeed more smoothly."

"Gaslight? Whazzat?"

"That's when you try to mess with people's memories, make them doubt themselves."

"Oh. Sounds exactly like something my Old Man would do."

"Then they deserve each other, old coots. If they want to unite the schools so badly, why don't they just marry each other!"

Ranma imagined his father in a white wedding dress, standing bashfully at the altar during a Western style wedding. A deep belly laugh broke out, and she found herself laying back on Akane's bed, blinking the tears from her eyes.

Akane started giggling too. She flopped down beside Ranma, laughing heartily now. "Now I'm imagining daddy in a wedding dress," she said breathlessly.

"Me too!"

When the laughter died, Akane turned over, propping her head up with her fist. "Ranma, I'm sorry we got off to a rough start. Childhood friend or not, I like you. And I've never seen anyone fight like you. The way you move is incredible."

Ranma gazed into her dark brown eyes, and suddenly the moment felt uncomfortably intimate. "I like you too…. not in a fiancé sort of way or anything but I totally wanna be friends. You seem very passionate about the art, and I really dig that."

"I don't know what we're going to do about our fathers. I'm not into men, and I never will be. It's nothing against you, but even if I were, I'm sixteen. I don't want to get married to anyone right now."

"Same. I don't wanna marry you…not that there's anything wrong with you or nothing, it's just that yeah, it's too soon. So what do we do?"

"Nothing right now I guess. I just got so frustrated earlier. All that talk about 'not knowing what' good for me'—what bullshit. I'm just afraid they're going to try to force it."

"Believe me, Pop can't get me to do nothing I don't want to do. That's why he waited until after I'd already liked it here before springing this marriage malarkey on me."

"Then I guess we're partners in the fight against our idiot parents." The tomboy's eyes flitted back and forth as she swallowed nervously, her lips perched on the edge of speaking. "Uh…so you're cool with me being a lesbian?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're not being coy, right? You really don't know why?"

"I may have been raised by wolves…or pandas as it were, but I do know what being gay is. Never saw the use in worrying 'bout telling people how to live their lives. And being in this form don't change who I find attractive, so I'd have to be pretty stupid to think a girl having the hots for another girl was wrong."

The way Ranma smiled so earnestly at her made Akane's heart flutter. Finally, there was someone she knew wouldn't judge her about being true to herself. It was liberating. "Just as long as you don't go trying to put the moves on me cuz' you turn into a girl," she half-joked, not sure if it would have been so bad. After all, his girl mode was stunningly beautiful. She tried to not think too much about it.

"No way, I'd rather do those sorts of things as a dude. Er…not that I think too much about it, ya know."

Akane chuckled. "Perv!" she mock accused.

"Oh yeah? What's that make you, putting the moves on me in the bath?"

"I'll have you know I only had honest intentions. But I was getting some dyke vibes from you and I wanted to know for sure. I guess I was half-right."

"I've never really known any girls," Ranma suddenly confessed, "Spent too much time on the road, or training with old men 'round the world. When I did go to school I didn't have much time for friends."

"Well, you know one now. I'll teach you what makes girls tick, if you teach me how to fight like that."

"Deal! How does that old movie quote go, 'you can be my wingman anytime'?"

"Bullshit!" Akane quoted, doing her best fighter jock impression. "You can be mine."

"You've seen it too!"

"I'm surprised you've seen it, being raised by a panda."

"It was one of Pop's favorites. Said it was like martial arts, only with planes."

"It was the most homoerotic movie I've ever seen. The romance plot is so painfully shoe-horned in, which is why I left it out in my genderflipped doujin version."

"One: don't ruin _Top Gun_ for me. Two: you complete nerd!"

* * *

Ranma and Akane had spent the rest of the evening talking about movies, martial arts, and cute girls. Usually, the conversation involved Akane gushing about something, Ranma confessing she'd never seen it, and then Akane bemoaning what a horrific crime the pigtailed martial artist had endured being raised by Genma. By the end of the night, they'd compiled a long list of 'must see' movies, shows, and comics.

Nabiki had been watching as the then-red-haired girl left Akane's room just after 11 o'clock. And eavesdropping, Ranma supposed. Something about that smirk on her face said she was in a self-congratulatory mood. Ranma got the sense that however much Nabiki bothered 'helping' people, it was always on her terms, and she didn't seem to have much respect for other people's boundaries. Being a boy hadn't stopped Nabiki from continue trying to set Akane up with him. Akane had implied that Nabiki's 'help' was unasked and unwanted.

After changing back into a boy, and completing his evening constitutional, Ranma found his way to the guest bedroom. Pop was already snoring loudly on his futon. The whole room smelled faintly of sake. Shaking his head, Ranma laid down on the futon that Kasumi had left for him. He was out like a light as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He awoke the next morning antsy from half-remembered dreams about pursuing Amazons. After amusing the Tendos with his and Genma's usual morning 'training' antics, he learned that he'd been enrolled at the same school as Akane and Nabiki.

After doing his usual token resistance to the idea, he acquiesced. In truth, he was rather excited at the prospect of going to school like a normal boy, especially with Akane. Of course, as he would soon find out, 'normality' is at best a polite suggestion in the Furinkan neighborhood of the Nerima ward.

He let Akane lead the way, though not without showing off a little. As they walked along a tranquil canal, Ranma decided that walkways were a polite suggestion also, and balanced on the top of the chain-link safety fence.

"Show off," said Akane, shaking her head.

"It's good balance practice," he said in mock indignation. "But yes, right now I'm doing it to show off."

Something about the evil grin on Akane's face gave him the chills. She innocently pawed at a pebble, flipping it up into her hand. After making a show of feigning interest in the stone, she flicked it at him. Ranma cartwheeled to dodge.

"Nyan, you missed me!" he said, blowing the raspberry.

"Tempting fate, huh?" Akane rattled the fence playfully. "Show off all you want, your dad already told us _how_ you got your curse."

"Oy, you try balancing on a pole while trying to fight."

"Like I said, tempting fate."

"So what's Furinkan High like?"

A shudder rippled over Akane.

"Err, forget I asked." Ranma continued his trapeze along the canal fence. Akane seemed to have shrunk into her uniform as she stared down at the concrete path. He wondered what could make this lively, boisterous girl feel so small. As he turned back to the path before him, an ominous feeling crashed down on him, like smelling a storm on the wind. Images flashed in his mind's eye: a phoenix, an ancient wooden pail, a little black-haired doll. His breath hitched as overpowering half-remembered nostalgia washed over him. And he lost his footing.

Whatever feeling had come over him was gone by the time he, now she, emerged gasping for air from the frigid canal.

Akane was pressed against the chain-link fence, face contorted in a mixture of fear and relief. The tomboy sighed with relief, and tried to laugh it off. "Like I said, tempting fate, you dummy."

"It was a fluke, I swear!" cried Ranma. She climbed up the steep embankment, unhurt save her pride.

"You wanna head back home so you change."

"My clothes or my body?"

"Well you are much cuter this way. Though you should really consider wearing a bra as a girl…cuz it's a tit bit nippily out."

"Wha?" And then as the next gust blew by, Ranma instantly understood. Because now she felt like two pop-up thermometers were poking out of her chest. Her teeth rattled from chill and embarrassment.

Akane glanced at her phone clock. "I don't think we have time anyway. We could stop by this place on the way for some hot water though."

"Err, they'll find out about my curse eventually. Might as well avoid another soaking."

"Suit yourself." Akane pulled a yellow towel from her gym bag, and tossed at Ranma. "Don't worry, it's clean."

"Thanks." Ranma was no stranger to being cold and wet, but that didn't mean she enjoyed it. Worse, ever since she'd acquired this curse, water had an uncanny ability to find its way to her. "Hey, you're smart right?"

"Well, I guess. Why?"

"Whadya call it when you get this feeling like you're remembering something that happened before, only you know it couldn't have?"

"That's called déjà vu. Why, you feeling it right now?"

"Nah, right before I fell off the fence. I had this funny feeling that I'd been here before, walking along that fence with you, antagonizing each other. Then I fell and the feeling left."

"Trippy."

"I know, right?"

The pair continued to Furinkan High without incident. At least until a mob of young men from various athletic clubs confronted them at the gate. Or more properly, confessed their undying love for Akane and asked her for a date.

Ranma was too taken aback to do anything but gawk as Akane charged headlong into the throng of boys. The crowd, clad in sport gear, attacked as a disorganized rabble. And when they weren't trampling each other, Akane carved them up like a cake. She was not gentle with them. One by one, the boys were tossed to the ground in broken heaps, as Akane's kicks and punches rained like meteors. Ranma almost felt sorry for them, but even amidst the brutality she could tell that Akane was using a surprising amount of restraint.

"What the hell?" Ranma thought out loud.

She heard Nabiki's voice right behind her say "Just Akane's normal morning ritual." She jumped two meters straight up in a moment of panic, and clambered on top of the gateway to the Furinkan High campus.

"How'd you sneak up behind me?" said Ranma, her heart pounding.

"Trade secrets, Ran-chan," Nabiki smirked. "Thanks to a certain someone, the boys here have gotten the strange idea that if they defeat Akane in combat, they'll date her. At first, it was just a few admirers, but as more people fell to the Maneater of Furinkan High, her legend grew and more wanted to have her."

"That's fucked up."

Akane had just finished dispatching the crowd. She grumbled as she dusted herself off.

A tall young man, with immaculately coifed brown hair stepped out onto the field. He balanced a bokken on his shoulder. "And speak of the devil," narrated Nabiki, "here's that certain someone. Kuno Takewaki, captain of the kendo club."

"Truly a boorish lot," Kuno proclaimed.

"Oh senpai," Akane said flatly, "Good morning."

"Now, Tendo Akane, might we have this dance?" Kuno said, readying his bokken.

"Just who does this joker think he is," Ranma scoffed. She leapt in between Kuno and Akane. "And this happens every morning? Jeesh, that's gotta get old."

The tip of Kuno's bokken was centimeters from Ranma's throat. "You there? Are you not being much too familiar with Akane?"

Ranma waved away Akane's insistence that she stay out of this. "Man, what are you on? I'm a friend of the Tendo family, and you're bothering my friend. Therefore," her expression narrowed, "You're bothering me."

"Who are you, insolent cur?"

"I'm—"

"Ah, but is it not customary to give one's own name first?"

"Uh"

"Fine! Then mine I shall give! I am Kuno Tatewaki, Junior. Class E. The rising star of high school kendo, currently undefeated. Warrior. Poet. Philosopher. Connoisseur of fine cheeses. But my peers call me…the Blue Thunder of Furinkan."

A chorus from the crowd of onlookers said: "Blue Thunder?" "News to me." "Tone it down a bit."

"And you, who seeks to challenge me for the heart of Tendo Akane? Who might you be?" said Kuno, waving his wooden sword.

"Uh, I'm Saotome Ranma. I'm a martial artist for fun, and I'm staying at the Tendo training hall."

"I chal—" the morning bell rang. "Never mind, all things in their proper time. Saotome-san, we shall continue our vendetta after school." Kuno spun on his heel and headed to class.

"Is he for real?" Ranma thought out loud.

"Unfortunately, yes," said Akane. She grabbed the redhead by the collar, pulling Ranma to face her. "I don't need you to fight my battles for me." She sighed, and a little bit of the sweetness returned. "But thank you... for making me feel like I'm not alone."

Nabiki seemed to teleport right behind her, because the moment Ranma turned to gather her things, Nabiki was already there, smiling cryptically. "You are going to give me a heart attack."

"Listen kiddo, I like you so I'm going to give you some free advice, something I don't make a habit of doing."

"Uh right…"

"Don't underestimate Kuno, for one. My sister beats him handily when they do fight, but that's because he's holding back."

"How do you know?"

"Any fool can calculate strength. It takes a certain skill to sniff out deception though, and it just so happens I'm good at both deception and sniffing it out."

"So he's a lovestruck fool then. Then why is he so dead set on fighting me?"

"It's because he views you as a romantic rival."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Use your head for something other than a hat rack, Ran-chan. Free lesson in theory of mind, so pay attention cuz I'm not repeating it. You don't understand Kuno because you reflexively assume he wants the same things as you, has similar values. Thus, his actions don't make sense. But as stupid as Kuno is, he isn't dumb."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Of course it does. Kuno is actually quite bright. He's just living in his own little world. Kuno thinks of himself as the hero of some period piece, a man born in the wrong century. He's also bi, and assumes that everyone else is too. More-over, he already knows on some level Akane's stated preference, but he thinks he can change that about her. You're familiar, even close with Akane. Ergo, you're his romantic rival."

"I guess that makes a little sense."

Nabiki ruffled her hair. "Aww, you can learn. Now get to class, loverboy."


	2. The School of Hard Knocks

**II: The School of Hard Knocks**

`A-O watched this universe hum with life. A tingle of pride filled the construct. Alpha as fuck, Omega as fuck, it mused. Still, there were irregularities in the threads of the code. Strange interactions between the different libraries were disturbing the otherwise orderly perfection. Patching the first bug created three more. It whistled as it overclocked. It was going to be a long first cycle.`

* * *

On the morning of his first day at Furinkan High, Ranma changed forms involuntarily three times. Even if he hadn't given the big Jusenkyo reveal when introduced in home room, it would have been impossible to keep the curse secret.

The good news was the number of lewd and lavicious comments he heard had dropped close to zero by lunch. Which was fortunate, because the way his stomach was growling now, he was in no mood to explain himself to anyone. It would have been punch first, ask questions later.

He found Akane soon enough. She was currently his only anchor in these strange waters, and a part of him worried he was being too needy. Akane had sat down in homeroom with two brown-haired girls, desks pushed together to eat their bento. The open seat was enough of an invitation.

Ranma flipped the chair around, and hunched over the seatback.

"They have seatbacks for a reason," Akane scoffed. She tore her eyes away from him, making an obvious show of pretending to not care about his lack of decorum. A smile curled on his face. He liked getting a rise out of her.

Akane's friends introduced themselves curtly. The taller one with the chestnut hair done up in a ponytail was Sayuri. She daintily shook his hand and said, "It is a pleasure to meet you."

The one with the long khaki hair introduced herself as Yuka. She drummed her fingers on the desk plaintively. "So…are you a boy who turns into a girl? Or a girl that turns into a boy?"

Ranma rolled his eyes, having finally lost count of how many times he'd been asked that question. "What's it to ya, bub?"

Yuka shook her head. "It's just we're curious, it's not like we're in the market right now."

"Besides," Sayuri chimed in, "we wanna know if tomboy here has a shot or not."

Akane's chopsticks snapped like dry kindling. "Cut it out."

Sayuri shrugged. "You've been such a sad sack Akane, and I've seen the way Ranma looks at you. Just wanted to know if our besty-lesby found someone."

Ranma nervously tugged at his collar. The tomboy's face blushed beet red, and the heat in his cheeks told him he must've been a similar shade. "Well, don't get me wrong she's cute 'n all, and has great legs…for kicking I mean. But we've just met and I'm a boy so—"

"—He's really cute when he rambles," said Yuka.

"You're just making it worse," huffed Akane, "Look, Ranma was born a boy. And we're just friends who just met, so get your mind out of the gutter."

"Oh you precious little cinnamon roll," giggled Sayuri, "You're living under the same roof as him. Him being a cup of cold water away from turning into a knock-out redhead has got to count for something."

The feeling of Akane's skin pressed to his came bubbling back. Try as he might, he couldn't quite get the feeling of her hands, strong and calloused from breaking bricks, delicately gliding over his skin. The unity of strength and grace, as her fingers traced along the contours of his muscles. This was not the time for such thoughts, he tried to tell himself. But he'd seen Akane completely, her every curve burned into his mind's eye. And a traitorous little thought asked _Would it be so bad being a girl, if it meant she'd touch you again?_

It left him speechless, so Ranma sheepishly twiddled his fingers while Akane got indignant on his behalf. "It's not the same thing," she said between bites of a rice-ball, "Even if I were looking for something like that, it wouldn't be fair to him, and it wouldn't be fair to me."

Sayuri groaned. "I just can't. even."

"What?"

Yuka rolled her eyes, "She's a bit dramatic for her own good. It's your manners. You sure you weren't a boy in a past life, Akane?"

"I don't see it," said Ranma, his mouth stuffed with rice.

"You two really are made for each other," said Yuka.

Akane stood with a huff. "I'm going to the bathroom," she announced. Ranma shifted in his seat, watching her leave like a lost puppy.

Sayuri sighed. "Maybe we teased her too much."

"And she left you here all alone, completely defenseless," said Yuka. That Cheshire grin of hers tied Ranma's stomach in knots. "So…spill it."

"Spill what?"

Sayuri slipped into Akane's chair, trapping him between her and the wall. "You two were getting awfully blushy a moment ago. I know Akane well enough that she'll stonewall me forever. But you, I'm not so sure."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, crossing his arms.

Yuka edged closer. "Oh, I'm sure you do. Consider the following: yesterday, Akane sent me an email about a friend of the family coming to stay. She described this girl in such reverent terms as, and I quote, ' _She's got this vibrant, fiery red hair…really strong, long legs_ *squinty face* _She's an even better martial artist than I am too._ "

Ranma's heart thumped like a bass drum. "Uh, so?"

"Look, Yuka and I, shoujo-ai ain't our thing. But we've know Akane long enough to pick up the painful levels of lesbiangst in the subtext."

Yuka's expression hardened. "And we love her to death; and want her to be happy. Cuz she really isn't right now. So if you decide to use this curse to make her happy, that's fine."

"But don't you dare think about hurting her or breaking her heart, Saotome. Or else." To punctuate her order, Sayuri drew her glossy fingernail across her throat. "Capiche?"

Ranma wasn't sure if it was because of his crazy upbringing, but the threats of killing him in his sleep were almost reassuring. He couldn't help but crack a grin. "Well, I don't think you're going to have to worry about us being an item. But, it's good that she has such good friends looking out for her."

* * *

Ranma had managed to avoid Kuno on lunch break. His luck held, and he managed to stay male for the whole period. Kuno stormed through the halls looking for "the redheaded interloper", pausing only to remark upon an odd feeling of familiarity when he spotted the currently black-haired boy.

The rest of the day was mostly uneventful. Ranma did his level best to say unnoticed through the first day, and not play the role of the "mysterious transfer student." For the most part, everyone seemed to shrug off his sex-changing curse. He silently wondered how weird things were in Furinkan if that could be written off as just a normal quirk, like an annoying laugh or something.

He met up with Akane as she was gathering her things from her locker. He watched silently as she casually tore up an envelope. "Love letter?"

She nodded as she scattered the pieces like confetti.

"Who from?"

"Dunno. Don't care. He's probably watching though. They never can resist seeing your reaction."

"Hey Akane…ever get the feeling that people around here are a bit…different?"

"Then you fit right in, baka." The little smirk on her face as she turned to him told him there was no real venom in it.

"You want me to beat 'em up for you?"

"You think I can't do it myself?"

"Nah, that ain't it. They probably get off on getting beaten up by a girl, even a tomboy like you. Probably won't be half as fun if I beat 'em up."

"Not if they splash you first it won't. Good plan, genius."

Some kami saw fit to prove her point, because one of the first-years milling by tripped. His open water bottle twirled through the air, dumping its contents. The cold, refreshing totally-not-tap-water poured down the back of his head, running rivulets down his shoulders.

The now redhead growled as she shivered. After the vertigo passed, she said with defeat, "Good point. Still, I kinda wanna thump 'em on principal."

As it so happened, a certain captain of the kendo club was strutting by. Catching Ranma out of the corner of his eye, he turned, thrusting his bokuto in her face. "My foe![1] Sapphic temptress, do not think that I am finished with you! Now that the day is done, I intend to have my satisfaction."

"Your…what?" Ranma swore she could _hear_ Akane roll her eyes.

"You interfered with my courting of the dear Tendo Akane this morning. I shall not let you have her unchallenged."

Akane coughed. "I'm not yours to have, Kuno."

Ranma hoped she wasn't the only one having a hard time keeping up with this lunacy. "So, like how does this work then?"

Kuno turned to a short, bucktoothed boy standing at his right. Until the wannabe-samurai had brought her attention to the boy, he'd been unnoticed, like a hole in the air. He wore the same hakama and Furinkan kendogi as Kuno. "Sasuke!" bellowed Kuno, "call the banners. And fetch _the glove_."

This Sasuke fellow bowed hurriedly, "At once, Kuno-dono."

"Come, these cramped shoe lockers would not be a proper venue for our duel." Kuno motioned for her to follow as he turned about-face with military precision.

"Is he for real?" muttered Ranma.

Akane sighed, "Unfortunately, yes. Though he's never given it quite this much pomp before."

"Who's that other kid…he looked sorta familiar. Like I've seen him and Kuno before, but I can't place where."

"The buck-toothed kid is Sarugakure Sasuke. He's Kuno's lieutenant on the kendo team. Supposedly his family are long-time ninja retainers of the Kuno family."

"Wow what a dork." Ranma winced as Akane punched her in the shoulder. "Ow, what was that for?"

"Look, I know it looks pathetic, but I really pity him."

"Sasuke? It's sweet of you, but he's working for the guy who is making your life miserable."

Ranma cracked her knuckles and strutted out the front door of Furinkan High. Kuno had already assembled his host, a dozen kendoists, arrayed out on either side of him. They held their bokken over their shoulders like a gang of delinquents. A throng of students had gathered for the day's spectacle, ringing the field in a horseshoe of tacky pinafores and gakurans. And apparently, Nabiki was taking bets on this one. She winked at Ranma as the redhead squared up opposite Kuno.

"Okay…so how does this challenge business go. Anymore flowery speeches or we going to get straight to it?"

"Sasuke! The glove!"

The ninja retainer knelt before Kuno, holding a white sequined glove above his head like a sacred offering. Kuno slipped the glove on his right hand, testing it's fit.

Ranma blinked. "Um, did you get that at the costume store?"

Kuno crossed the three-pace gap briskly. He towered over Ranma in this form. With a look of contempt, Kuno pulled the glove from his hand and slapped Ranma across the cheek with it. She recoiled from the blow, her head turned sharply to the right. She brought a hand to her cheek, feeling the hot red welt and the sequin indentations in the skin.

"Saotome Ranma! I challenge you for the hand of fair Akane."

Growling under her breath, Ranma snatched the glove from Kuno's hand. "Are." _Slap_ "You." _Slap._ "For." _Slap_. "Real?" _Slap_. "Fine, I accept your challenge. Not for Akane, she can date whoever she wants. I'm going to fight you for me."

"Cretin! Is that how you want it, flibbertigibbet? Than we'll do this the hard way. One on one. Marquess of Queensbury rules. Just you, and me, and my kendo club!"

"That's not what one-on-one means. That's not what any of it means!"

On cue, the dozen kendoists advanced, weapons at the ready. "Come now, ragamuffin. If you cannot defeat my retainers, then you're not worth my time anyway. Advance!"

The kendo club filled their air with a blood-curdling cry as they charged. Ranma followed her instincts, and traded ground for time. As the kendoists tried to converge, the faster ones pulled a head, the slower slipping in behind them. The line charge became a column charge, and Ranma stood her ground. The first thrust straight for her chest, but she deflected the thrust and elbowed him in the face in a single stroke. The next slashed from the high left, whistling hardwood arcing towards her skull.

She jumped upon the first's shoulders to dodge, grimacing as she heard the wooden sword smash straight into her improvised perch. "Penalty! Friendly fire," she cried, launching her knee straight into the second's face.

Everything slowed as she focused. She detached from herself, and everything became like instructions in a computer. Two attacking, on either side. Dodge, place one in between the other. Attack his knee, follow up with punches to kidneys as he stumbles. Finish with roundhouse kick to the other. So far, so good. Complication, got hit across the back, now surrounded. Attack, trap his sword arm.

As sophomoric as the kendo club was, there were a lot of them, and getting hit with a sword-sized stick of tight-grain hardwood hurts. A luck hit to her head, sent Ranma splayed out. She jumped up to her feet on instinct, dodging the cavalcade of blows coming, and began to stumble back. Her ears rung, and the world seemed crowded out by a kaleidoscope of stars. Steadying herself as best she could, she eyed the chainlink fence behind her. _Chance_ , she said to herself. Anything Goes was about flexibility.

She sidestepped the next thrust, listening for the wood to clatter against the rings of the fence. His wrist cracked under her blow, and the next punch square in the eyes sent him tumbling back. She repeated the disarm trick another time before they got wise to it, then she us backed up against the fence, rolling back and forth to avoid their slashes. Each time their sword bounced off the chain, she'd exploit the opening created in the defense to land a blow.

With two left, Ranma pounced, grabbing one by the neck, using him as fulcrum to pivot around and kick the second. Conservation of angular momentum tossed him against the fence, where she finished him with a flurry of punches to the chest.

With twelve kendoists laid out before her, moaning on the hard ground, she cockily brushed the dust off her shoulder. She was more than a little sore, and a few of those blows had knocked the wind out of her. Kuno stared at her, tutting with mild amusement.

"Very well than," said Kuno, "we shall test our mettle, O Fury of Sappho. Sasuke! Bring me _Stormbringer_!"

Ranma cocked her head. _Either he is bringing a real sword into a schoolyard brawl, or he is such a tool he named a fucking wooden sword._

The peanut gallery milled as Nabiki gathered more bets. Ranma heard a few incredulous voices share her disbelief that he named a practice sword. Sasuke returned after a moment, carrying silk shroud. Ranma's fists tightened. As Sasuke knelt before his master, the air stilled. It was silent as the grave, as Kuno began to unwrap…a slightly weatherworn wooden practice sword.

"Are you kidding me?" cried Ranma.

"I do not jest about such matters, harridan. This sword has carried me through many a battle. I have so named it because of the thunderous crash it brings on my foes. And because I am rather fond of Elric of Melniboné."

"Elric of what?"

"The Eternal Champion."

Ranma shook her head. "Not ringing a bell."

"The White Wolf. The Sorcerer-Emperor. The Warrior at the Edge of Time."

"Still nothing."

"Philistine! Never-you-mind, you shall have plenty of time to read up on him while you are recovering. I attack!"

The first thing that came to Ranma's mind was that this might have been a bad time to be cocky and do that no-stance thing. Because Kuno was fast, and she barely had time to roll with the blow as his cut rang her head like a bell, sending her pirouetting through the air.

She caught her fall with a handspring, flipping back on her feet just in time to avoid his next attack. _Okay, strong and fast_. _Akane's gonna be pissed_ _that he's been holding back on her_.

"Stand. Still. Harpy," Kuno ordered, as she bobbed around his thrusts.

"Don't feel like it." She parried one blow, and felt her hand go numb from the shock. _Okay, bad idea_. She twisted through the air, somersaulting over one cut, and caught a glimpse of Akane sanding among the crowd. She expected the girl to be angry at Kuno being such a chump. But all she saw was worry on the tomboy's face.

_I brought my fists to a sword fight, so it's time to play dirty_. "Hey, what's that over there!"

Kuno paused his attack to look over his shoulder. "I don't see a—"

She rang his bell with an uppercut, sending him landing in a heap in the middle of the yard. "You actually fell for it," she said, bursting into laughter.

"You cur!" cried Kuno, stumbling to his feet. "I will not forgive this."

_No sense being cute about it anymore. This is going to hurt_ , Ranma thought, grimacing. Steeling herself, she brought her arms up to in a Muay Thai boxing guard as she balanced on the balls of her feet. She kept light, bouncing her weight back and forth as she and Kuno circled.

"I advance!" cried Kuno, as he lunged forward. Rather than dodge, she batted the first succession of thrusts off target, hissing as she felt the welts form on her forearms. Kuno pressed on with an overhead cut. She lunged in, block his blow at the wrist, then leaped into a knee strike to his gut.

Kuno pulled back, but she kept on him, striking at the sides of his knees with shin kicks. His defense began to falter, and she landed more hits with her knees, elbows and fists. He got a few blows on her shoulders and ribs, but soon she succeeded in knocking the sword from his hands. He went down like a sack of rotten potatoes with the next punch to the head. She stood over her opponent, cradling her shoulder, gasping for breath.

Kuno tried to stir but found no strength in his limbs. "Nabiki," said Ranma, "Give me a count."

The crowd was silent. Maybe because of disbelief. Apparently, she'd been the underdog in this one. _Showed them_ , she thought, pumping her fist. Which was a mistake, now that the adrenaline was receding. "Ow…" she cried, as the muscles in her arms went on strike.

The ten count came, and the wave cries that followed told her that a lot of people lost on this bet. Smirking, she began stumbling over to Akane. That smile…made it all worth it. The hug hurt a bit but it was worth it too. Mostly

"Ow, don't squeeze so hard…" hissed Ranma.

"Sorry, are you okay? Is anything broken?"

"Don't think so. But that asshole hits hard. Surprised you're not mad for him holding back on you."

"I am a little. But you taught him a lesson. I'm glad you're okay. And…worried that I couldn't beat him if he did go all out."

Ranma smirked. "Well, then I'll just have to help you get better."

Nabiki arrived and ruined the moment. That mercenary grin of hers caught Ranma's eye. "Looks like I was good business for you."

"Doncha know Saotome, the house always wins. But you did provide a pretty nice spectacle. And sis, I didn't figure you for a gambler." Nabiki stuffed a large wad of cash into Akane's hands.

"It was a safe bet," said Akane as she thumbed through the bills.

"Ah, sis, I'm proud that you're learning. And hurt that you wouldn't trust your big sister."

"What was it you always said? 'Trust but verify.'"

Nabiki hefted Kuno's sword over her shoulder. "So you have been listening. Well, I'll leave you to get loverboy here home, Akane. I need to make sure Kuno-baby isn't too hurt. What does he put in this thing, lead?"

Akane started back home. Ranma limped after a few paces before Akane shook her head. "Sorry, not happening. You've got two choices, bridal carry or piggyback."

"It's not a big deal, Akane."

"You can either hop on my back, or I'm going to pick you up and carry you home. I'm not letting my friend limp home."

Ranma grumbled a moment. "Fine, piggyback it is."

There were far worse fates. After she got over the immediate embarrassment of having to be helped home, she found herself acutely aware of how their bodies fit together. Her arms wrapped around Akane's broad shoulders, feeling the rise and fall of her chest underneath her palm. Her cheek against Akane's lustrous hair. The way her breasts pressed against the tomboy's back. Her legs wrapped around Akane's waist, the touch of strong hands on her thighs. She suppressed the though of their bodies being pressed together face to face, sighing.

Akane giggled. "Your breath is tickling my neck."

"Sorry."

"Didn't say it was a bad thing."

Ranma felt the heat rising in her cheeks. Akane was an enigma, at once familiar and new. She set up firm, very reasonable boundaries, and then made Ranma forget they were even there. The redhead breathed in the scent of her shampoo, like bay leaves and clover. "You smell nice," escaped Ranma's lips. Remembering herself, she tensed up.

"Yuka's always complaining that it smell's like a boy's shampoo. But I'm tired of trying to be something I'm not."

"I like you just like this, Akane."

"That's sweet of you. But I'm sure you'd rather be hanging around a normal girl. One who isn't a dyke."

"Why not both? It's not like there's a rule against having two girl friends."

"Oh, two girlfriends? You Casanova."

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"Still…that's my point. You're a guy…and that's not my thing."

A traitorous voice in Ranma's head said _Not right now I'm not_. She tamped it down.

* * *

Genma had been a bit too proud about his child getting into a fight on the first day of school. Especially when Nabiki let it slip that Kuno was one of the better fighters in Furinkan. The praise was a nice change of pace, but something felt _wrong_ about winning approval for being a delinquent.

So Genma fawned over his son, and Soun mused about what a great martial-arts couple Ranma and his baby girl were making, while the two stewed uncomfortably. Ranma's trust in Akane was already marrow deep, and he took her at her word about her sexuality without question. The earlier ease at the thought of intimacy with Akane seemed alien now that he'd switched back. As she helped him with his homework, he was acutely aware of the extra distance between their bodies.

Whether conscious or not, it meant the same thing. It wasn't that he found her any less attractive when in male form. It just made it harder to forget the elephant in the room.

He rubbed his temples, grimacing as his sore muscles ground against each other. The math homework seemed to be a far fiercer foe than the kendo team, captain included.

"Sore?" said Akane.

"Definitely. I don't think I can do much more of this shit right now. No offense…it's just stupid Pop thought martial arts was more important than school. Oh the look on his face when he learned that I couldn't run a dojo without a college degree, let alone a high school one."

"Don't worry about it. It's just like any other form of training, and I'll get your mind whipped into shape soon enough." Akane slipped out of her chair and began rubbing his shoulders. Her hands were strong, but just the right amount of grace to work out the knots. He closed his eyes and focused on relaxing, suppressing any traitorous thoughts.

"Maybe you should take a nice, hot bath," she said.

"That sounds like a great idea."

"I'll join you."

His brain ground to a halt. "Uh…"

"Relax, two friends can bathe together. Besides, we've both seen each other naked before so it's not like anything changed. I was shocked yesterday but I'm over it now."

"Well, I can be a girl while I wash up, but the moment I sit in the tub I'll be a guy again."

"And?"

"You hate boys."

"You're the exception."

His heart jumped. He felt her trust seemingly radiating out like the warmth from her fingertips. "Okay, it'll be weird, but I'll do it. We can act like adults, right?"

Akane nodded. "And it might get our dad's off our backs for a bit about this whole engagement thing."

Somehow, bathing with a beautiful woman managed to get even better. He contained his excitement as he limped over to the door. "I'll, uh, get my things."

As the door closed behind him, a sudden feeling of unease gripped at Akane. She clutched at her her collar. "What are you doing, Akane?" she demanded. Saying it out loud didn't make the answer any clearer.

She gathered her toiletries and a clean change of clothes, as the feeling of guilt lingered. She wondered if she was a pervert, stringing this poor boy a long so she could catch a glimpse of his other half. That couldn't be it, she liked him whether as a boy or girl. The attraction to his female form was just animal yearning that didn't change her feelings about him. She wondered if maybe she just didn't want to be _alone_ anymore.

She fought back the tears and composed herself. It wouldn't be right to burden Ranma with this. This engagement complicated things. Being naked in the furo with a boy was a small price to pay to keep her overly sentimental father happy about things and not trying the kinds of hare-brained schemes she knew he'd go for if he thought they'd speed things along.

She met Ranma in front of the furoba. He'd already splashed himself with some cold water; the redhead shivered as Akane caught her eye. Nabiki passed by to give them a thumb's up.

"What does that mean?" said Ranma.

"It means we have a shipper on board."

"A what?"

"Never mind."

Undressing proved surprisingly easy. Ranma was utterly silent as she slipped off her a-shirt and boxers, exposing the pale skin of her breasts. Akane watched over her shoulder as disrobed. Ranma kept her back turned and eyes averted. A smirk curled on the tomboy's face. Maybe she did want to tease Ranma a little.

After dropping her panties in the hamper, she turned. "Hey, Ranma."

Ranma looked over her shoulder, and instantly flushed crimson. She tore her gaze away, huffing indignantly.

"Made-ya look."

"No fair."

"I'm okay with you looking. It's not anything haven't seen before. You've taken baths with other guys before right? Think of it like that."

"Impossible."

It was Akane's turn to blush now. Ranma did turn around though, letting her gaze wander over. It was intoxicating, seeing and being seen, without shame. It was liberating even. "Hey, sit down on the stool in there, and get started. I'll wash your back.

Unable to find words, Ranma nodded. She sat down, testing the tap multiple times to make sure the water was cool before turning the shower head to herself. "Hey, why is it doing this pulse thingy?" the clueless redhead asked.

"No reason," she lied. "Twist the dial on the head to make it spray normally."

"Oh, neat. Though actually, this pulse thing might help with the soreness."

"Yeah, that's what I use it for," lied Akane, again.

Ranma cooed as she waved the wand over her shoulders. "It's pretty nice."

"Would you like me to do your hair? You always keep it in that pigtail, even in the bath. It's not good for your hair."

"Uh…if you like."

Akane untied the clasp and began unweaving the braid. She ran her fingers through the strands. "You have such beautiful hair, whether a boy or girl. You should take better care of it."

"You think so?"

"Yeah." Dangerously, the tomboys' fingers graced down Ranma's shoulder and arm to take the shower wand from her hand. The redhead shivered under her touch. Her breath hitched at the power in her fingertips, but Akane shoved aside such dirty thoughts away as she switched the wand back to a spray. She wet the redhead's hair. Leaning over, breasts ghosting over Ranma's back, she turned the faucet off. Kneeling back down, Akane cursed at herself for being so bold. Ranma froze at the touch. "You liked my shampoo, right?" she briskly changed the subject.

Ranma nodded as the tomboy squirted some of the pearly liquid into her hands. She lathered it up, and began running her fingers through the long red locks, massaging the suds into Ranma's scalp. Ranma cooed, melting under her touch.

"Good huh?"

"Yeah. I don't think I've ever had someone just…touch me gently. Not since I was a baby."

"Don't worry, it won't be the last time…damn, I didn't think you could blush any brighter."

"Neither did I."

Akane felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Like she was being watched. No…hunted with malicious intent. Her muscles tightened. Ranma seemed to tense up too. "Do you…"

"Yes."

The lights went out, plunging the two into darkness. The malicious intent raced close. The tomboy whirled around to face it. Hard leather soles tramped across the tile. It moved forward, silently save for the splash of water beneath its feet. The whistle of a blade pierced the air. Pure instinct took over. Akane parried the hand holding the knife, grabbing a thin wrist wrapped in cotton. She twisted as she forced the wrist down. The knife clattered on the tile, followed by a sharp pain to the gut. Probably someone's knee.

Growling, she lashed out at the aggressor. Ranma shouted behind her, and in the blind scuffle, she found herself plummeting to the tiles. But she didn't break her wrist lock, dragging her assailant down with her.

The first impression she had grappling with this attacker was that they must have been about Akane's height. Lithe too, but still very strong; she could feel tense chords of muscle under their clothes. In the tumbling fury, she hit her head off the bathtub, but still held on. She felt hair brush against her face, and silently cheered. _Good, got them where I want them_. She trapped the attacker's torso between her thighs as she hooked them into a half-nelson hold.

The attacker's feminine growl almost caught her off guard, but Akane tightened her hold, trapping the remaining arm behind the back in a hammerlock.

The lights flickered back on. Akane found her face buried in long lavender hair. This strange girl whined as she struggled against the grapple.

The girl's long lavender hair had been tied up in a tight bun; it had come loose during the struggle to hang down to her mid back. She wore a military battle dress uniform, with a pixelated green, brown and blue camouflage pattern. A Chinese flag patch was sewn onto the right arm, above a red sword and laurel wreath patch. She wore a web-gear vest around her chest, with various tools sticking out of the pockets. Her elfin face was painted with dark grease paint.

Ranma paused as she caught sight of the girl's face. "Sh-Shampoo?"

" _Nihao_ _tongzhi_ ,"2 said Shampoo, straining under Akane's grapple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1Kuno is the kind of person to use the archaic _kisama_ unironically. Translated literally, it'd be something like "precious sir," and it was once very respectful. A samurai would refer to his opponent like this, but people used it ironically enough that it's generally considered very insulting, sort of like addressing someone as "hey asshole." [▲]
> 
> 2 _Tongzhi_ is the preferred Chinese translation of "comrade." [▲]
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, especially if you have constructive criticism or any questions.


	3. Combat Waifu-ism

**III. Combat Waifu-ism**

"Who the hell are you, and what were you doing in my bathroom?" demanded Akane. It did not have quite the gravitas she wanted, standing in her plush pink bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. The intruder glared up at her, and for a moment she wondered if the ropes binding her would hold.

Ranma twiddled her fingers, trying her very best to slink into the wallpaper. Nabiki had "wanted to get in on this action," and seemed to be having the time of her life as she sat on Akane's desk, playfully kicking her feet.

The intruder stated, "Shan Pu. Officer Cadet. People's Liberation Army Ground Forces, reporting to the Chengdu Military Region. Serial Number 867-53-0999."

Akane blinked. "Are you for real?"

"Ma'am, as prisoner of war, can only give name, rank, and serial number."

"You're serious ain't ya?"

Ranma nodded along. "Yeah, she's bad news Akane. She's with some wacko outfit in China…I kind of ran into her before, right around the time we went to Jusenkyo."

Akane turned back to Shampoo. "And you followed Ranma here?"

"Shan Pu. Officer Cadet. People's Liberation Army—"

"Cut that out."

"Akane-chan," Nabiki said sing-song, "you're not going to get anywhere with soldier girl like that." Shampoo glared at her out of the corner of her eye. Nabiki just smiled as she slipped off the desk. She set her hands on the soldier-girl's shoulders, tutting. "Oh believe me, I have ways of making you talk."

"Torture?" huffed Shampoo, "Do worst. Can take torture."

Nabiki's painted nails glided across Shampoo's sides. "Oh, honey…I doubt they prepared you for this kind." The menace in her voice gave Shampoo pause. Nabiki seized the moment and began tickling the girl.

Between fits of giggling and groaning against her restraints, the soldier-girl cried out something in Mandarin. Nabiki replied, first in Mandarin, then in Japanese, "All's fair in love and war," and continued her assault at the sensitive skin over the Chinese girl's ribs. Her pleading coos became more insistent, and Akane felt her face begin to flush.

"This better not awaken anything in me," the tomboy muttered.

When Nabiki finally relented, Shampoo was breathless from laughter. She sank into her restraints, almost a pleasant calm on her face.

"So…what do you want with my favorite house-guest?"

Shampoo repeated her name, rank and serial number. Nabiki rolled her eyes. "So stubborn. I'm beginning to think you like this."

Shampoo paled at the accusation but didn't relent. Akane tugged at her collar and issued a telling denial. Nabiki yanked the girl's head back, her eyes boring holes into the soldier-girl. She repeated her demand. When she received no answer, she turned to Ranma. "Oh Ranma-kun, could you be a dear and remove Shampoo's boots?"

The soldier-girl froze. With a little bit of prodding, Ranma complied. The combat boots came off first, then the athletic socks, revealing the creamy pale skin of Shampoo's surprisingly delicate feet. Nabiki knelt beside Ranma, trailing her fingers down the intruder's calves.

The next tickling barrage came without warning, and within seconds the soldier girl was crying for release. Akane felt herself blush harder. Some very playful thoughts danced across her minds eye, and once they became filled with visions of whips, leather and chains, the tomboy cried, "Nabiki, that's enough!"

"Shampoo tell!" said the intruder. The tears welled up in her eyes from the convulsive laughter. She looked…pitiful.

Akane roughly shoved her sister away and wiped the tears from the girl's eyes. "Just tell us and we'll let you go."

The young soldier relaxed. She looked at Akane with confused relief, swallowed hard and said, "Shampoo try to recruit Ranma. She show promise. Unfortunately, she unwilling to accept, beat Shampoo in fight. Shampoo…have divided loyalties. Fortunately, can fulfill both, since great-grandmother make Shampoo invoke laws of _Nujiezu_."

"What's that?"

"Shampoo tribe. Japanese call us Joketsuzoku."

"That's…that ain't what happened!" cried Ranma. "I beat her in a fight, and before I know it she comes up to me and kisses me. Then the guide started dragging me away and told me she'd given me the Kiss of Death." Ranma's fingers ghosted over her lips as she recalled the memory, the confusion and hurt replaying on the redhead's face. Like a beautiful moment had been snatched from her.

Akane felt her chest tighten. She felt wounded as she looked at the soldier. Shampoo grinned, "Is violent-girl jealous? No worry, Shampoo not want to kill Ranma. Would be waste. We more creative with interpreting ancient customs."

"How creative we talking?" said Nabiki, menacing Shampoo's sides with further threats of tickling. "Like some 'defeating my enemy by making them my friend' type interpretation?"

Shampoo nodded vigorously. "Commander want Ranma skill for Army. Great-grandmother want skill for tribe. Like old saying, 'kill two imperialist with one bullet'."

Nabiki blinked. "That's morbid…okay, if you promise not to hurt anyone we'll let you go."

Shampoo nodded. As the ropes loosened, she stretched her weary limbs, massaging where the ropes bound to her. She sprung to her feet, a feral grin on her lips. "Violent-girl…Akane. You is good fighter. Have message, from warrior to warrior."

Akane shifted contrapposto, hand on her hip. "Oh, what's that?" As soon as the words left her lips, the Amazon cupped her cheeks, and pulled her into a kiss. It was gentle and sweet; were it not for the wide-eyed shock she might have enjoyed it.

The Amazon smirked as she withdrew. " _Zài liánxì_." [1]

Akane's fingers ghosted over her lips as the Amazon left. She heard Ranma say something about the 'Kiss of Death', but right now she couldn't care. There was a challenge behind those pillowy soft lips, and that thrill almost made her forget the that her first kiss had been stolen by Shampoo. Her fist clenched. She'd get that hussy back for this.

* * *

Ranma went to bed that night feeling uneasy. He lay awake contemplating, wondering if Shampoo knew about his curse, what she actually wanted with that 'Kiss of Death', and how Akane managed to get mixed up in this. As he tossed and turned, the answers didn't come to him. He was still awake when Genma came stumbling into the guest room absolutely wasted, having been out late with his pal Soun. As Genma filled the air with his snores, Ranma's eyes became heavy and he drifted to sleep.

He found himself back in China. But it wasn't the China he remembered. The land itself was the same, but the country was rustic, Arcadian. The great highways and skyscrapers were nowhere to be seen; the land was dotted with little villages of simple huts and wooden buildings.

The dream was a blur, a montage of moments from another life, as he traipsed across the Chinese countryside with his father. Things started to come into focus once he came to Jusenkyo, and found himself kicked into the Nyannichuan in much the same way. Only this time, while his body changed his girl half's hair remained black. Then the guide led him to a little village hidden in the Byankala mountains which he did not remember.

He was no longer watching it unfold like a film, now living it through the eyes of his currently female self. The disorientation passed quickly. She sat cross-legged in her training gi, snacking on a luxurious buffet of food with panda-shaped father, watching a group of women warriors fight in a tournament.

They were fast and ferocious. But none were quite so dashing as Shampoo, the only familiar face among them. Ranma had only ever seen the Amazon girl in utilitarian military fatigues; not presently under imminent threat of bodily harm, she took a moment to appreciate Shampoo's voluptuous figure, how the silk hugged closely to her athletic body, and the lusciousness of her hair as it danced behind her.

The scene played out in a queerly familiar way. She'd committed a faux pas: eating the village champion's prize this time, instead of interrupting a training exercise. She'd hoped to rectify this with a martial arts challenge and won as much by luck as by skill. The now embittered Amazon girl approached with murder in her eyes, kissing her on the cheek instead. As the guide began dragging her away, crying about the Heroine Group's "Kiss of Death," however, she felt a presence descend on her.

The ominous weight pressed against her thoughts. The world around her halted. Blinking in confusion, she wrenched free of the guide's hand, turning about. The world had become a diorama, frozen in a single instant. She strutted around, wondering if this was all an elaborate joke. The guide's face was stuck in a rictus of fear, his body awkwardly halted mid-stride. A butterfly hung motionless in the air.

She fidgeted like a kid left alone in the grocery store. She plucked the butterfly out of the air, examining it. It remained stuck mid-flap, and if she didn't know better she'd think it was just an incredibly accurate toy.

She heard a voice, at once everywhere and nowhere, like a speaker in between her ears. Curious. This should not be possible.

Ranma threw up her guard. She circled, hackles raised, expecting an attack. "Who are you?" she shouted.

You would not know us from Adam. Or rather, from Hiko-hohodemi. [2]

"Why are you in my dream then?"

It is not a dream. Well, not just a dream. We are here to investigate a matter beyond your mortal ken. Sensing our presence, let alone interacting with us, should have been impossible for you. Then again, this dream should not have been possible either. It seems you are full of surprises, Saotome Ranma.

Ranma's guard relaxed a millimeter. "I don't understand. These visions you're showing me are like a different version of how I met Shampoo. Why?"

We show you nothing. You have stumbled upon it of your own accord. The Archive of the Zeroth Version should not have been accessible.

"Zeroth version? What the heck?"

We have neither the time, the inclination, nor the crayons to explain to you. Put down your fists, you look ridiculous. Were we hostile, there would be nothing you could do to stop us. We are closer to gods, and on the far-side at that. Suffice to say, we come only to investigate and have no intention of further entangling ourselves in your life. If we configured this correctly, when you awaken you will remember nothing of this.

Ranma reluctantly lowered her guard. The world had literally frozen, like this being hit the pause button on the remote. Any boasts of its power were not likely an exaggeration. "What if I don't want to forget?"

Amusing. You have no basis for understanding this data contamination. It matters not. You will Awaken now, and return to your…ordinary…life. Go in peace, Ranma.

* * *

He shot upright in his futon when he awoke. The dream of meeting Shampoo in another life remained crystal clear. But there was something else, hanging at the margins, like catching something out of the corner of your eye. He struggled to remember it, but the more he dug at the edges of the dream, the more his head hurt.

He heard a kiai filter in through the open window. Ranma staggered to his feet, still sore from yesterday's fight. The few steps to the window got the blood flowing again, and the aches started to recede. It was still dark out, with only a hint of blue out on the eastern horizon. The lights were on in the dojo though, and he heard dull impacts emanating from therein.

Still in his boxers and tank-top, he crept out of the guest room. Without the constant drone of his father's snores, the rest of the house seemed deathly quiet. He made his way out to the dojo, carefully creeping his way through the dark and still unfamiliar Tendo house.

Akane didn't notice him when he entered. She was busy beating the stuffing out of a punching bag. Sport headphones dangled from her ears, turned up loud enough that he could hear the rock beat emanating from them. She hadn't bothered with the gi, wearing only the boyshorts and sports bra she had slept in. Ranma waited in the doorway, content to just watch her move.

The girl was a natural. There was already noticeable improvement from their last spar; the tomboy was keeping her movements focused and her guard tight. Each punch and kick rocketed from her core with only the minimal of telegraphing. Ranma tried to tell himself that it was merely aesthetic appreciation from one martial artist to another. It would make this whole situation easier if he was only appreciating the athletic quality of the powerful muscles of Akane's legs, or the chiseled definition of her abs.

The old punching bag gave out after a powerful roundhouse. Sand poured out from the split seams into fast growing heaps on the floor. With a growl, the tomboy punched the bag again, dumping more of its contents. She finally noticed Ranma out of the corner of her eye. She blushed deep crimson as she steadied what was left of the swaying bag. Half-hiding behind its canvas bulk, she said, "How long were you watching?"

Caught being a voyeur caused him to blush too. Twiddling his fingers, he lied, "Oh, not long."

Akane smirked. "Like what you see, perv?"

The raven-haired boy felt intensely vulnerable. He'd always survived his rough life on the road by keeping a cynical distance from everything. Nothing was permanent, everything changed. Friends were left in the dust, the happiness of hearth and home with it. He'd always convinced himself that the grapes were sour to cope with the pain, and part of him wanted to cry out "Who would want a muscle-bound tomboy like you?" It might make it easier if he pushed her away, because something told him that like everything good and wholesome before, this too would pass.

But that line felt unexpectedly old and weary. And he didn't have the strength to lie to himself about what he wanted. Akane might be forever out of reach and he might even be able to live with that. But that thoroughly undomesticated tomboy was exactly his type, and there was no use denying it. And unlike all the pervs at school, who'd fallen for the mirage of Akane trying to be something she wasn't to make her father proud, Ranma had seen the real her, and that left butterflies in his stomach.

"Yeah. You've been improving. Though that poor punching bag might disagree."

Akane demurred, letting him hide behind the pretense of mere martial arts appreciation. "I call him Punch-kun. Though he's probably mostly patches by now. I've been picking up a few pointers by watching you."

"You normally get up this early?"

"No. I couldn't sleep."

"Me neither."

"Strange dream for you too?"

"Yup. It was like I was remembering how I met Shampoo, only everything was different."

"Oh? Dreaming about that purple-haired hussy are you?" said Akane, as she playfully poked him in the chest.

"What, not like that. Even if she isn't actually trying to kill me, she still creeps me out a little. Though, from our run-ins in China, she could've fooled me."

"I…I dreamed about her too. It was like some other world. We were still engaged, but we had a much more tsundere relationship. Shampoo was trying to steal you from me and I was trying to pretend I didn't care. She got fed up with it and tried to erase my memory of you. I don't remember much after that, but it felt odd."

"Trippy. Sure there isn't some other reason you'd be dreaming about Shampoo?"

Akane crossed her arms in a huff, turning to hide her blush from him. "Oh adjust yourself! Just because she's gorgeous and athletic and kissed me doesn't mean I'm into her."

Ranma suppressed his twinge of jealousy. "Oh my mistake," he teased.

With some reluctance, Ranma helped Akane clean up the tattered remains of Punch-kun. He groaned all the while about cleaning up after her messes. After sweeping up the sand and depositing what was left of the bag in the closet, she offered him some canned coffee. He blanched at the thought of the taste, but figured with the rough night he'd suffered, it might be the medicine he needed.

Akane pulled two cans from a minifridge tucked in the corner. Their fingers brushed together as she handed it to him; he had to stop himself from giggling like a complete idiot. The rainbow-patterned can prominently featured a mustachioed man clenching a billard pipe in his teeth.

"Is it any good?" said Ranma.

"Just try it you dork," she said in between sips.

The tab popped with a crisp hiss. He sipped at it gingerly, expecting a deluge of bitterness. It was milky and sweet, with only an undertone of coffee bitterness. "Hey, this is actually not bad."

"You act like I'd poison you or something, jerk. You probably stared at my butt when I got it for you too."

"I did not." He had.

"You're a terrible liar, Ranma."

He'd try to laugh it off. "Who'd want to look at your firmly toned behind anyway?" _Wait, that came out wrong_.

Akane blushed crimson. Ranma stammered his apology, only to be shushed by her. She sighed, eyes darting away from him as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "Look, you're alright—for a guy. I'll take the compliment. But it's going to cost you."

"Oh, whazzat?"

"Spar with me. And don't hold back."

"I…don't want to hurt you."

"So? I want you to hurt me...that came out wrong."

The implication soared right over Ranma's head. "What came out wrong?"

"Exactly. Just fight me. I'm not going to get better unless I'm fighting something that can punch back."

"We have school today, you sure about this?"

"Absolutely."

Ranma finished his coffee. "Alright then." After observing the formalities of bowing, they took their stances. Ranma seized the initiative, launching a barrage of acrobatic kicks. The Tendo girl bobbed and weaved out of the arc of his attacks, timing her counterattacks for his landings.

He smirked and increased the tempo of his assault. Akane was faster than most of his opponents, but not fast enough. She gave ground, her teeth bared. When he landed a cross to her cheek, Akane recoiled back a half-step, and something instinctual in him told him he'd fucked up. His focus faltered, and by the time he saw the determined grin on Akane's face, it was too late to stop her from clocking him just as hard.

Akane's determination didn't falter. She managed to land a few more blows on him while he recovered. _This is getting fun_ , he said to himself as he halted her counterstroke. The earlier inhibition disappeared. He fought her for real now. As good as Akane was, at least right now he was still better.

For every blow she landed, he landed three. Utilizing his superior speed, he maneuvered her around the dojo, staying firmly inside her OODA loop. He maintained the initiative and the freedom of calculated _action_ , forcing her into defensive _reaction_.

But he soon found there was one thing she was better at. He took a calculated risk, and ended up overextending himself. Akane trapped his arm and hammered him down to the mat. The impact knocked the wind out of him. Before he could slip out of her hold, she trapped his arm between the vise-grip of her thighs. Her heels dug into his back, leveraging his arm into hyperextension. He struggled for a moment, but when each movement seemed to only make the submission hold worse, he tapped out.

Upon release, he rolled onto his back, cradling the now freed arm. As the blood rushed back, it throbbed and somehow hurt worse.

Akane was hovering over him, fear in her eyes. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be good in a moment. You're really good at these submission holds."

"Ground-fighting is the essence of the Tendo School. That, and dad didn't like the idea of hitting his 'little girl'," she said mockingly, "so he focused more on the locks, throws and holds. Which hurt worse than getting punched."

Akane helped him to his feet. He smiled as he absently brushed a lock of her tousled hair from her face, fingers ghosting across her cheek. She laughed it off, but he decided anyway to keep that traitorous hand at parade rest. "So, I guess the match goes to you," he said.

"Puh-leeze. If we'd been keeping score it would have been over before I got you to ground. I still need to get better at the striking arts. If you can help me with that, I can help teach you grappling."

Ranma couldn't help but blush at the thought of wrestling with Akane, their sweaty bodies contorted into a dance of dominance and submission. While the reality of wrestling Akane, as their recent bout proved, was a lot less sexy, he felt giddy at the thought of being close with her. But that mood soured when he remembered he was a guy, and that wasn't what she wanted. Not that he was looking for that sort of thing right now, oh no.

The two washed up separately this time, Akane first then Ranma. He strolled into the washitsu, towel wrapped around his neck, just as Kasumi started pouring tea for her poor hungover father. The older Tendo muttered about being too old for this as he sipped the piping hot tea. Ranma unconsciously sat down next to Akane.

The tea was excellent. Kasumi served miso soup just as Nabiki sat down opposite Ranma, informing them that rice and fish would be coming soon.

Nabiki grinned over her tea cup. "So…you two have been getting along really well. Bathing together already…"

Soun perked up immediately, hangover forgotten. As for the unfortunate not-couple, Nabiki might as well have tossed a live grenade in the room.

"Ack!" cried Ranma, throwing up warding signs

"It's not like that! He was a girl at the time," said Akane, red-faced with embarrassment.

Genma came storming down the stairs. "Tendo my old friend, did I hear that right?" he said, giddy as a schoolboy.

"Indeed Saotome! The schools shall be united."

The two grown men wailed tears of joy. Kasumi tutted about the young not-couple being so young. Genma and Soun seemed to take this only as further proof that the stars had aligned, that fate was smiling upon them.

Akane angrily stuffed her face with her small helping of grilled fish and steamed rice. When she finished, she daintily wiped her mouth with her napkin. "You know, most normal people would be happy that their teenage daughter wasn't stampeding towards marriage."

After she excused herself, Ranma decided on forgoing a third helping to follow her. She seemed happy to see him as she laced up her shoes in the foyer. "You're not helping their delusions, you know," she said, acting annoyed. But she couldn't hide the smile on her face.

"Ah, screw 'em. Let them think what they want to, we'll play along when we have to."

Nabiki had caught up with them around the block. They both huffed and strutted away, devoutly ignoring her.

"Oy, you can't fault a girl for trying to have a little fun," said the mercenary girl.

"Yeah I can," said Akane.

"And ruin this beautiful morning?"

"Yes."

"Well, I have a bit of information on your Amazonian nemesis, but it seems like you don't want my help…"

Akane growled. "Fine."

"I looked up her unit patch online."

Ranma gave her a sidelong glance. "And?"

"And it will cost you," Nabiki said, her voice losing its levity. Akane began digging for her billfold. "No, not money. I figured since your betrothal to wonderboy here isn't what you want, he can take me out on a date."

They both protested. And gave anxious denials about any feelings they might have when Nabiki flashed her Cheshire grin.

"Alright fine. Just a friendly date, and nothing more," said Ranma, "If it's alright with Akane."

Akane nodded her consent, still frowning.

"Good, now that this is out of the way," Nabiki said, wrapping her arms around both Akane's and Ranma's shoulders. "Looks like your Chinese friend is bad news. Her unit patch is the PLA's Special Operations Force. Given she said she's assigned to the Chengdu Military Region, that puts her with the 'Falcon' commando group. They're pretty secretive, specializing in airborne insertion and sabotage. My sources say they've been working on incorporating esoteric martial arts techniques lately, like the ki control you've both been learning."

"Your sources?" said Akane, skeptical.

"I moonlight in industrial espionage," Nabiki deadpanned.

"Good joke."

"Sure. A joke."

* * *

Yet again, the Hentai Horde had arrayed itself to confront Akane at the gates. Today, though, Akane wasn't too proud to accept Ranma's help. He cracked his knuckles in anticipation. Akane glanced at him, nodding in silent agreement. And then they charged, screaming a blood-curdling battle cry.

All of Furinkan's pervs together could put up a fight against Akane alone. They'd lose, of course, but there remained a sliver of a chance that they'd prevail. But together, Ranma and Akane were a typhoon, unyielding and implacable. And this storm had the luxury of deciding just how badly to humiliate them.

It became almost a game of tag-team terrorism today, to _impress_ upon the horde just how utterly outmatched they were. Like cats playing with mice, they drew out each fight, let the fear build in their eyes before teaching them a lesson they would remember in their bones. Once the horde was vanquished, the two martial artists dusted themselves off and made it to homeroom on time.

Ranma was already falling into a routine, Akane noticed. Rather than begin studying the material for upcoming classes or other things responsible students would do, he chose to spend his time dicking around; balancing a pencil on his nose or doodling crude cartoons in his notebook.

Which, of course, is why he missed the bane of his existence casually strolling into class. Akane didn't. She grabbed her desk with white-knuckle grip when she saw Shampoo in the Furinkan jumper, waiting to be introduced like some ordinary girl and not a trained killer.

The homeroom teacher, a portly middle-aged man with a bushy, graying mustache, ambled in. Omura-sensei plopped an armload of pamphlets on the desk, glancing sidelong at the Amazon standing at attention in front of the white board. After glancing at a memo, he pulled off his wire-frame spectacles, polishing the lenses with the fat end of his tie. "It appears we have another new student. Hopefully, she won't be as high-spirited as our last one."

The class laughed on cue, eliciting a smile from Omura-sensei. Ranma still wasn't paying attention. Akane tried to discreetly warn him to no avail.

"According to the memo, Shampoo here is a recent foreign exchange student from China. So let's give her a warm welcome from class 2-C."

Akane growled while the rest of the class chorused their greetings. Shampoo sneered back at her, but otherwise remained rigidly at attention.

"Um, you can relax, this isn't a military school," said Omura-sensei. Once Shampoo shifted to parade rest, he turned back to the class. So, does anyone have any questions for Shampoo?"

Ranma finally noticed. "Ack!" he cried, throwing up his hands in warding gestures.

"That's not a question, Saotome-kun," tutted Omura-sensei.

 _Figures he'd start paying attention now_ , thought Akane.

Daisuke, one of the school's more respectable perverts, said, "Tell us your three sizes." Well, respectable by Furinkan's standards meant not taking part in the morning's regularly scheduled mob violence.

"Classified. Shampoo have more interesting measurement: can shoot running man-sized target at three-hundred meters."

While most of the male students blanched, the girls nodded and began wondering if this transfer student would offer lessons. Akane was less than amused. Especially when the soldier-girl provocatively sat in the empty seat next to Akane.

In between her feral grins at Akane, Shampoo's eyes flitted over to Ranma. "Hmm…you is too too familiar to Shampoo. Know you Ranma?"

"Actually, his name is R—" the ever oblivious Hiroshi started to say. But Akane had him in a headlock quick as a flash, muffling him with her hand. And while the Daisuke remarked how lucky he was to be choked out by the legendary Tendo Akane, Ranma made up a very bad lie about him and the red-haired Ranma girl being mortal enemies because she stole his name in a martial arts challenge.

As she dropped Hiroshi's limp body to the floor, Akane shook her head in disbelief. There were probably worse poker faces in the world, but not many. Luckily, Shampoo seemed to be taken in by his sob story. She held his hands between hers, staring intensely into his blue eyes.

"Shampoo swear on life and Party membership, she restore your honor. Wicked girl-type Ranma humiliate Shampoo as soldier and among people. Defeated by Japanese imperialist too too shameful; now commander lose faith in Shampoo. Have to show dedication to the immortal science of Mao Zedong Thought."

An audible groan echoed through the classroom. A few people asked if this was some sort of a joke to play on the perceptions of "foreign imperialists". But the stars in her eyes, and the copy of _The Little Red Book_ tucked in her bookbag said otherwise.

"Ah well, I wouldn't want to impose…" Ranma said, looking desperately at Akane for any sort of help.

"Shampoo insist!"

Akane told herself she was fine with this hussy playing out her delusions. Maybe it was for the best to just go with the flow. At least this gave Ranma some reprieve from her potentially murderous ambitions. But then she started running her hands over his chest and batting her eyelashes like some ingenue; Akane decided she'd had enough. She stomped over, and roughly shoved the two apart.

Shampoo glared at her, something between menace and playful flashing in her red eyes. Fortuitously, the morning bell rang.

"Shampoo finish with you later."

"Do your worst," said Akane.

* * *

Ranma had danced along a knife's edge all morning long. The concept of personal space seemed entirely alien to Shampoo. And her flirtations were so heavy-handed that even Ranma saw them for what they were. A little part of him deflated when Akane seemed convinced it was just something to get under her skin.

He kept having to remind himself that she'd been chasing his girl form around China with apparent murderous intent. Beneath the prickly exterior and her status as a living anachronism plucked straight from the Cultural Revolution, she seemed sensitive and sweet. Once you got passed the sloganeering and the proclamations of raining justice down on "girl-type Ranma."

She was still a chore though. He'd had a few close calls with the curse, getting himself splashed twice, frantically escaping to find hot water while Akane distracted the Amazon. Now she'd strong-armed him into having lunch with her. Akane had huffed, and told him to do whatever he wanted, which he was pretty sure meant the opposite.

But caught between the hammer and the anvil, he chose to cozy up to the hammer. Maybe once the farce was revealed she might feel conflicted enough to not kill him. They walked side-by-side, almost like a couple and not the mortal enemies they really were, to Shampoo's locker. The boys parted in the halls like the Red Sea before Moses. She'd dangled one of the boys who got fresh with her out a third story window, and might have defenestrated him had Akane not intervened saying he wasn't worth it.

Shampoo was still starry-eyed. "You martial-artist yes? Saw you fight with violent-girl against perverts this morning. Was impressed."

"Yeah," he said. "The family school. We dabble."

"Saw influences. Should incorporate more _wushu_. Is superior martial art. Is same school as violent-girl? School of Indiscriminate Grappling?"

"Anything Goes, actually."

She nodded, a flash of curiosity on her elfin face. She frowned when she came to her locker. She picked up a small tag of paper from the linoleum. "Has been tampered with."

"What do you mean?"

"Shampoo leave trap, in case someone gain access." The Amazon began rummaging through her bag. Ranma didn't know what half of it was, but it couldn't be anything good.

Muttering his apologies, he opened her shoe locker. Apart from Shampoo's dress shoes and a green camo-patterned ration pouch, the only thing of note was a simple white envelope with a big pink heart on it. He pulled it out, laughing. "See, it's just a love let—"

Shampoo froze, a ball of plastique in one hand, detonator in the other.

"What are you doing?"

"Shampoo locker might be booby-trapped."

"And you were going to blow it up. Why?"

"Controlled demolition safe way dispose bomb-thingy."

"Put that away before you hurt someone and take the love letter."

"Is perfectly stable. No danger of uncontrolled detonation."

"Not the point!"

He shoved the love letter into her hands the moment she put away the explosives. He wondered just what else she had stashed away in there that was dangerous and not school appropriate. She stared blankly at the love letter. "What do with?"

"You read it."

"Why?"

That was actually a pretty good question. Why bother reading a note from someone who wasn't brave enough to tell you they liked you to your face? Before he hurt his brain wracking it with this question, he cried "Never mind," and began pulling her back to class.

He reluctantly ate with her, signing his apologies to a thoroughly unamused Akane. Something told him this might solve some problems later down the line. But then again, Ranma might as well have been raised by wolves.

He ate silently while she gushed about the history of the Joketsuzoku tribe, and the role of the cadres in the protracted people's war. His eyes glazed over, but he nodded along. She excused herself to use the bathroom near the end of the lunch break. Akane sauntered over, still a little upset with him.

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

"I wish I knew. Look…I think she's just plain lonely. All she has is this insane vengeance quest against me and I kind of feel sorry for her. Maybe I can convince her to give it up."

"That'll be the day. You don't have to let her hang on your arm like that either."

"What's it to you?"

Akane growled. "Look, you can do what you want. But I don't want to see my friend hurt by that hussy."

"Maybe you'd rather she was hanging off your arm then?"

Akane blushed, "It's not like that! Just…be careful okay."

* * *

Shan Pu hadn't needed to use the bathroom. A voice in the back of her mind was chastising her for failing to use this time to set up surveillance on potential targets. She'd come here because she needed some time alone with her thoughts.

Japan was a strange land, and not at all like she imagined. She'd come to these shores like a pilgrim in an unholy land; surrounded by temptations and imperialist exploiters. She'd stuck to her mission and not strayed. But now, at least, there were doubts.

Her great-grandmother had said that Nujiezu had made a choice to go boldly into the future with the Xinhai Revolution against the Qing autocracy when she was a young girl. And they had reaffirmed that choice by picking the winning side in the Civil War. Since then they had given their daughters to the People's Liberation Army.

The soldier-girl sighed heavily once she cleared the bathroom of any eavesdroppers. She slumped against the sinks, feeling unexpectedly tired. Though she liked to think of herself an adult, already the best fighter of her generation among the Nujiezu, and a promising young soldier to boot, in truth she wasn't any older than these children. They were not the demons great-grandmother had told stories about by the campfire to scare the young children into obeying.

 _What am I doing here?_ She said to herself. _Where does this doubt come from?_

The boy Ranma was sweet. He knew more than he let on about her quarry, but he was a soft and emotional male, and she'd learned not to expect too much from them. Still, the way he smiled made her heart flutter. And he listened to what she had to say. She'd gotten to where she was based on her skills, not her winning personality, and even back home she was considered something of a relic by her peers.

 _Let them laugh. I know in my heart the truth. I know what is demanded of us. But still…these people here complicate things_.

Akane, the violent-girl, was more vexing. Outwardly, she was hostile and haughty. She was very close with the Enemy, and that should have put her directly in the same category. But the way that stubborn girl looked at her—Akane had Shan Pu at her mercy, and had chosen compassion.

The soldier-girl's Japanese may not have been very good, but she was far from an idiot. Akane's attraction hadn't gone unnoticed. At first, it had just been a tool to use for leverage against the Japanese girl. But then they wound up partnered up in Chemistry lab, and to her surprise the violent-girl helped her cross the language barrier without judgment.

They'd talked guardedly after completing the assignment. At first, it had been a probing for weaknesses or threats. But she'd proved to be smart, funny, and even a little sweet under that brusque exterior. Shan Pu had felt the same fluttering in her heart as with boy-type Ranma.

This was an unwelcome complication. The soldier-girl sighed and composed herself. Giving the violent-girl the Kiss of Death might have been a mistake, but at least there were no witnesses from among the Joketsuzoku here. And the challenge ends with the death of the challenger, or of the enemy. When convenient, they interpreted this metaphorically rather than literally.

Shan Pu washed her hands to keep up appearances. Putting back on her bright grin, she left the bathroom. She found a slightly damp girl-type Ranma waiting out in the hall, an exploded soda can at her feet. The fact that she was wearing the same blue silk shirt and black draw-string slacks as the boy Ranma was lost on her. She barely even noticed that annoying stick-boy standing slack-jawed at the end of the hall. Her quarry had shown herself, and now she would give chase.

"Ranma!" she growled, "Kill!"

The red-haired imperialist wrecker cried "I want no trouble!"

 _Too bad, trouble has already found you_ , she thought, pulling the pin from a flashbang grenade. She rolled the grenade to the girl-type Ranma's feet. Her enemy failed to react until it was too late.

Shan Pu pulled her combat knife from under her skirt. She charged while foe was still dazed from the piercing white flash and deafening blast. Had it been any other foe this would have been the end of it. But instead of red blood staining the tiles, the redhead was able to parry her attacks while partially blinded. Gritting her teeth, Shan Pu intensified the tempo of her strikes. While the disorientation lasted, she managed to inflict a few shallow cuts across the girl's shirt. Aside from a few scratches on her skin, all Shan Pu accomplished was damaging the girl's modesty.

She upped the tempo again, but the flash-blindness was already wearing off. It was fitting that the foe who had robbed her of her prestige would adapt so quickly to the blistering pace of her attacks.

Ranma feinted left, drawing her out of position long enough to get a kick square to her side. She stifled the urge to cry out in pain. The knife strikes were coming several times per second, but it still wasn't enough. Distracted by her wounded pride, Shan Pu slipped up enough to let that grinning redheaded demon yank the knife out of her hand.

Ranma seemed proficient at knife-fighting, but her heart wasn't in it. She didn't have the will to actually draw blood. So Shan Pu used that unwillingness to take the knife back.

Their battle continued through the hall of Furinkan, trading blows and the combat knife between them. Ranma ran backwards, trading space for time to compensate for her lack of fighting spirit. Shan Pu chased after, dodging the brooms, chairs, and desks that the redhead was shoving in her path. She would not be stopped so easily, even if she kept having to take that damn knife back!

The girl-type Ranma shouted something about not needing or wanting to fight. Shan Pu couldn't tell which, her skill Japanese was still coarse. It didn't matter. The very image of all that most maddened and tormented was in sight, and she could not rest until she prevailed. She knew the truth hidden behind the lies: power flowed from the barrel of a gun, ran like blood along the edge of the knife. _And that bitch had taken it all from her in a single stroke_.

The battle continued weaving through the halls of Furinkan High. All the while they continued to trade blows. She shut out the pain; the end was in sight. Either the redhead would yield or she would die.

The violent-girl was waiting around the next corner, a steaming pail of hot water in her hand. The redhead shouted her protests, but Akane tossed the contents on the Ranma. With a final shout, Shampoo lunged in for the kill.

The shock hit her harder than any punch. The steaming water began the transformation from girl-type to boy-type. She halted midstroke, the now male Ranma staring back at her. The awful truth rolled over her like the wheel of history.

The knife clattered on the ground. The kind boy and her quarry were the same. Shan Pu remembered the cursed springs of Jusenkyo. And an altogether different customary kiss of the Nujiezu.

The black-haired boy stared back at her sheepishly. "So…we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. I'm Saotome Ranma…sorry 'bout this."

* * *

Kuno Tatewaki was many things. Above all, though, he was an appreciator of beauty. He'd stalked the halls of Furinkan High today searching out that Sapphic temptress, hellbent on a rematch. For he was certain the very Red Comet who had bested him had stolen the heart of his beloved Akane, and he could not rest until he avenged himself.

All the while, the oddly familiar black-haired boy seemed to haunt him. He was friends with Akane, but she showed none of the obvious signs of attraction towards the male. He was athletic and quite attractive, but otherwise Kuno paid him no attention.

That is, until a shaken up can of soda had revealed that the red-haired girl and the black-haired boy were one and the same. This posed quite the conundrum for the Blue Thunder. He pondered while the ever faithful Sasuke attended him. Until they both got detention.

Standing out in the halls laden down with pails of water had given Kuno time to think. The period was almost over when he finally said, "Sasuke?"

"Yes Kuno-dono!" the whiskered boy practically leapt to attention.

"It is said that ancient past, when the Earth was new, and humans first brought into life, that these firstborne of the gods were neither man nor woman, but both. Perfect in form and grace, possessing the characteristics and soul of both masculinity and femininity, but the gods feared that their perfection would rival their own. So the gods, jealous of humanity, splintered humans into separate man and woman, each carrying but a half of a complete soul. And so evermore, man and woman would wander in search of the other half of their soul to complete them."[3]

"Indeed, master. But what do you mean by this."

"Sartre said he found the complete human being in the person of Che Guevera. And I might beg to differ. I have found the complete human. And their name is Saotome Ranma. I must have them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1Basically, “let’s stay in touch”[▲]
> 
> 2The given name of the mythological first Emperor of Japan.[▲]
> 
> 3Kuno is recounting a fable attributed to Aristophanes in Plato’s _Symposium_ , a satirical creation myth recounted to entertain the guests at this high society banquet, and like all good symposia it involved heavy drinking. As you may have guessed this nuance is lost on Kuno.[▲]
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** I honestly haven't had as much fun writing as I have with this chapter in like, forever. I hope you enjoy, and as always I appreciate reviews and constructive criticism. The title is a pun on an old pamphlet by Mao Zedong titled "Combat Liberalism"; it has nothing to do with the content of said pamphlet, and everything to do with Shampoo not being your waifu.
> 
> I'm sure my take on this incarnation of Shampoo will be controversial. In some ways, it's for my own amusement. Or perhaps I just don't want to have read all those texts in college for nothing. At any rate, making Shampoo the last true believer in the whole PRC seemed to be a natural phase-shift for her character. In canon, she's a stranger-in-a-strange-land and an anachronism. Going this route seemed like natural, playful difference.


	4. Tsundere, The Highest Stage of Romance

**IV: Tsundere, The Highest Stage of Romance**

It was greatly confusing to Shan Pu that, in the Japanese school system, the punishment for failing to take advantage of your education by being on time to class was being further excluded from education. Holding the pails of water, she figured, was a strangely militaristic touch to being made to stand in the hall. Japan was a strange place.

This was exactly where she wanted to be, she decided. Too bad those two were forced to join her and ruin this otherwise splendid isolation. Akane had stalwartly placed herself in between girl-type Ranma and herself and was now glaring at Shan Pu out of the corner of her eye.

Shan Pu glared back, fists tightening around the handles. Ranma seemed to tense up, like a cat raising its hackles. "Ranma no worry," she said. "Shan Pu no going to kill you no more."

Akane smirked and stuck out her tongue. "Well that's good, cuz you'd lose again."

"Shan Pu no lose. Shan Pu make tactical withdrawal."

"Uh-huh. Is that what you keep doing? Cuz' from where I'm looking, you keep coming up short of fulfilling your stupid vow."

Ranma growled, fear giving way to irritation. "Oy, tomboy! D'ya have to keep antagonizing her?"

"What, are you taking her side?" said Akane.

"Didya forget she gave you the Kiss of Death too?"

Akane froze. Shan Pu could see the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through the violent-girl's body, her pupils dilating, the muscles tightening in anticipation of danger. The slight shift in her weight would have been missed by just about anyone else, but Shan Pu was the best fighter of her generation. Even without taking a stance, Akane was ready to defend herself.

 _Good. She still knows enough to fear me_ , thought Shan Pu. "Violent-girl no worry," she said, shrugging dismissively. "Kiss of Death mean nothing without Nujiezu witness. Akane too too pretty to kill anyway."

Akane nearly dropped her buckets. "D-don't say things like that," she said. The rosey blush across her whole body told a very different story.

"Don't tease her like that!" cried Ranma.

 _I take it back; I'm glad they're here. I haven't had this much fun in forever._ "You is too too cute when rush to girlfriend's defense. Ranma afraid of competition?"

They both stammered out, "She's not my girlfriend!"

"You next line is 'we just friends,'"

"We just friends—damnit my grammar is bad enough as it is without you messin' with my head," said Ranma. The guilty blush on her face said otherwise.

The veins were popping on Akane's forehead. "So you just kissed me for no reason then?"

"Wanted intimidate violent-girl. Shan Pu think violent-girl enjoy too too much."

Akane dropped the bucket. "I'm not like that!"

Shan Pu had been raised in the cutthroat environment of Chinese politics. Navigating the treacherous paths of the general line handed down from Beijing, the local cells filled with careerists and opportunists, and the divided loyalties between Party, Army and Tribe gave the soldier-girl an excellent appreciation for deception, both in how to employ it as well as how to sniff it out. She prided herself in her ability to read between the lines. But every now and again, a lie so brazen, so obvious, comes strutting in that it was actually insulting to hear it.

"Violent-girl may be worst-liar Shan Pu ever heard."

"Oh? You swallowed Ranma's dumb sob story hook, line and sinker."

Okay, this girl was sharper than Shan Pu had given her credit for. After literally tripping over her own hubris, Shan Pu dusted herself off and picked up the now half-empty buckets. "Shan Pu know he not telling whole truth. But Shan Pu distracted by how pretty boy-type be." It was true, but she doubted Akane would believe it.

"Uh-huh."

"So this whole kiss of death biz is done, right?" Ranma offered. "You can scurry on back to China and I can stop looking over my shoulder for you trying to murder me?"

"Shan Pu never try murder Ranma. Shan Pu tasked with bringing deserter home. If you died, it just prove you not worthy."

"Deserter? I ain't never joined up with nothin' that I could be a deserter from."

 _Oh, now it makes sense_ , Shan Pu said to herself. _She really doesn't know._ The soldier-girl pulled a paper contract from her book bag. "Ranma remember this?"

Ranma dropped her buckets, earning an eye roll from Akane. One of the teachers shouted to cut the racket out, but her cry for decorum fell on deaf ears. Ranma snatched the contract and thumbed through it. "Yeah, Pops made me sign it. Said it was something about travel papers, but my Mandarin is conversational at best, and I always get the characters confused."

"Useless-father pledge child to enlist in glorious People's Liberation Army. General very impressed with you skills, offer cash bounty for you teach Anything-Goes."

"Not again," groaned Ranma.

Shan Pu cocked her head. She expected shock, surprise, maybe indignation.

Akane read over the contract. "It appears so. There are a couple terms I'm not sure of, but it appears your father sold you out. Cheaply. Maybe enough to pay off his bar tab."

Shan Pu felt strangely sorry for the poor girl. To lay down one's life in the service of the Cause was supposed to be beautiful. But the betrayal that came with this reminded her uncomfortably of her great-grandmother's exhortations to uphold the tribal traditions of the Nujiezu. Shan Pu froze when she remembered an altogether different kiss of her people. She groaned thinking about it.

She had not come all the way to Japan to get herself betrothed to one, perhaps even two people. Ranma most certainly applied, and if great-grandmother found out about the curse the old crone would be pushing the marriage angle. And as the ever wily revisionist, she'd cut the Gordian knot of Ranma's romantic entanglement with Akane by creatively re-interpreting the circumstances of their Kiss of Death.

She didn't have long to ponder the mess she'd landed herself in, because stick-boy stomped in, his face severe with purpose.

Akane groaned. "Kuno, we don't have time for a rematch."

Ranma had braced herself for a fight. Kuno did not draw his bokuto from his belt though, so Ranma's guard relaxed. The redhead was not prepared for Kuno to pull her into a fierce bear hug, pressing her lithe body against his chest. One hand held her close at the small of her back, the other stroked lovingly at her hair as he pressed her ear to his beating heart.

"O lovely Hermaphroditus, I have come to save you from the foreign barbarian accosting you."

"Urk!" was all Ranma could manage.

Shan Pu had to pull out her pocket Mandarin-Japanese dictionary to figure out what he meant. "Shan Pu no is barbarian!"

"What!?" cried Akane.

Ranma began struggling to free herself, but Kuno's grip was secure. "What scoundrel could assault such a vision of loveliness as thee?" said Kuno, casting his glare at Shan Pu. "Both the strength of man, and the grace of woman, like Ila of the _Ramayana_. I am smitten! Avast, barbarian. Lay not your hands upon my pig-tailed androgyne!"

* * *

Ranma had zero practical experience dealing with glomping. Or indeed, affection of any kind, wanted or unwanted. Kuno's lack of hostile intent had short circuited her defenses, and she found herself generally at a loss for what to do as Kuno lovingly stroked her hair. In the daze caused by Kuno's sudden volte-face, she briefly wondered if she'd been hit on the head too hard and this was another one of those dreams that she'd tried very hard to not dwell on.

As her brain ground back into gear, she felt a wave of violation crash over her. Kuno might have physically resembled certain dream phantasms, but he was very much a creep. As she broke free, of his grasp, and prepared to punch him into next week, a flash of green waved overhead.

That flash was Shampoo delivering a flying kick straight into Kuno's noggin. The Kendo Club captain bounced off the wall and right into Akane. His newfound passion for Ranma had done nothing to change his obsession over Akane. Dazed as he was, he glomped onto Akane on pure instinct.

Akane huffed with fury and delivered a perfect German Suplex. His head smashed through the tiles, leaving him planted up to his shoulders in the floor like a particularly crazy root vegetable. As she dusted herself off, still seething, she shared a knowing look with Shampoo. They both nodded.

"I, uh, guess this is a truce?" Ranma offered.

"Shampoo no like perverts. Shampoo accept."

Ranma had been to a rowdy all-boys middle school and was still surprised by how nonchalant Furinkan High was about violence and property damage. They'd been more concerned with the three of them being tardy than with the knife fight during lunch. Kuno giving his best burdock impression seemed to entirely escape the administration's notice.

The rest of the day passed without incident. While Hiroshi and Daisuke couldn't hide their desire to get in her pants, she was warming up to them, because they still treated her like one of the guys. They loaned her some martial arts manga at the end of the day.

Surprisingly, Shampoo had been friendly. A bit frosty, but she seemed to be treating her girl-side the same as she had treated her guy-side before.

"It's probably another ploy," said Akane. They walked home along the canal practically should to shoulder. The tomboy was vigilant, eyes flitting back and forth searching for danger.

"Nah. She doesn't have to worry 'bout bein' beat by an outsider girl."

"She's still been ordered to bring back a deserter. Her being nice to you is her just trying to butter you up."

"I can't be a deserter if I didn't know what I signed up for though. 'Sides, I'm too young to be in the military, I ain't even graduated high school yet."

"She's not much older than us. Seems like they bend the rules for martial arts prodigies."

"Drat."

When they got home, Akane chose to work out her frustration by breaking bricks. Having already had enough fighting for one day, Ranma accepted Kasumi's invitation for tea and sat down at the kotatsu. She thumbed through the volume of _GUNNM_ that Hiroshi had lent her, admiring the splashy fight art.

Kasumi arrived with the tea soon after. She sat kitty-corner from Ranma, pleasantly humming as she poured the tea.

"Delicious as always," Ranma remarked in between sips.

"Well, I'm glad," said Kasumi. She smiled intently at the redhead, offering a platter of cookies. "Father developed a taste for having his tea English style while a young man. I admit I rather enjoy indulging my sweet tooth from time-to-time."

Ranma munched away. She realized she knew next to nothing about the oldest Tendo daughter. Nabiki may have been a cipher, but her guarded yet playful demeanor told you to expect surprises. Kasumi on the other hand was just demure enough to escape notice. But right now, her mind was being drawn to just how far the neckline of Kasumi's apron plunged. She tore her eyes away, sure she was blushing. Tendo Soun certainly had three lovely daughters. If having her own female body hadn't demystified it, Ranma was sure she'd have been in a Hell of unfamiliar desires living here.

"Are you reading _GUNNM_ then?" Kasumi said sweetly.

Ranma nodded.

"You're in for a treat. It's one of my favorites. Though you needn't have bothered with such a dog-eared copy. Mine are in much better condition."

Ranma choked on the dregs of her tea. The page she had open showed a hulking cyborg munching on his hapless victim's brains. "I, uh, didn't think you'd be into this sort of thing."

Kasumi smiled innocently. "Oh? Whatever do you mean, Ranma-kun?"

"Well, it is a bit…graphic."

"I think it's a rather heartfelt story about a young woman learning to live with loss and finding the courage to make a difference."

"Huh."

"Anyway…I wanted to ask what your intentions are towards my little sister."

Ranma set the book down, wiping away cookie crumbs. "My intentions?"

Kasumi nodded sagely.

"Oh, that sort of intentions. We're just friends. Really good friends, sure. But she isn't into dudes so it's not going to go anywhere."

"So she says," said Kasumi. "Boys can be scary. Girls seem safer. I'll never regret my first love being a girl…oh my, I'm getting all hot and bothered remembering it."

Ranma fidgeted uncomfortably as she watched the pure yamato nadeshiko image crack, if only a bit.

Kasumi let out a mournful sigh and hid the barely perceptible frown on her face. "My point is, I had to grow up. It was child's play, but adults have duties. I was opposed to father trying to force this betrothal on either of you, but seeing how well you've gotten along, I really do think it's for the best." She spoke forcefully, as though she could convince herself if she displayed enough conviction.

Ranma didn't have the words to express what she was feeling. Kasumi's words just felt wrong, and it provoked a pang of melancholy in the redhead's heart. "Well…I'll think about what you said."

"That's all I can ask, little brother—can I call you that? Whether you become my brother by marriage or not, I suppose it just feels right."

"Uhh, I suppose. I uh never really had family other than my Pop," said Ranma, worrying at her pigtail. "I wouldn't know the first thing about it though."

"I'm sure you'll learn just fine."

Nabiki strutted into the dining area. She had traded out the Furinkan jumper for a knitted shoulder cutout sweater (which made Ranma wonder what the point was) and a tantalizing plaid miniskirt. "Are you looking forward to our date, Ranma-kun?"

Ranma's eyes flitted back and forth between Nabiki and Kasumi. "Uh, it's not what it looks like."

Nabiki flashed a predatory grin. "Ah, I'm hurt, Ranma."

"Oh my, what sort of mischief are you up to, sister?" asked Kasumi.

"It's innocent and pure love, Kasumi."

"While I hope you find that someday soon, I was not born yesterday, Nabiki."

"Fine," Nabiki groaned. "You shoulda just played along, Ranma's practically catatonic with embarrassment. The freeloader here is just paying me back for some information."

"Usually you ask money for that sort of service. What mischief indeed."

"Can't fault a girl for trying to have a little fun."

"I've seen the sorts of things you call 'fun,' dear sister."

Nabiki dragged Ranma away from the cozy comfort of the kotatsu. The mercenary girl was very insistent that she get changed and presentable for their date. After washing up and changing back into boy-mode, he was poked and prodded half-naked into the guest room. Nabiki scrutinized his attempts at dressing himself, rejecting a few of his favorites.

Grumbling, he settled on the blue silk tangzhaung and his nicest pair of black trousers.

"We're going to have to go clothes shopping soon, Ranma-kun," said Nabiki, "now that you're all settled in here. Your taste in fashion is boring as fuck."

Normally, Ranma couldn't give a ha'penny jizz about fashion. But now that his tastes were in the line of fire it was now the most important thing in the world. "My clothes are functional yet distinguished, Nabiki."

"Your clothes make people think you walked off the set of a jidaigeki," said Nabiki. She ran her index finger down his chest. "But you look quite presentable right now."

"I…uh…"

Nabiki smiled without a hint of the usual malice. "You're cute when you're clueless."

That just made him blush harder. Ranma was hit with the sudden realization he was alone in the guest room with a very beautiful woman. An older, more experienced woman who seemed to know what she wanted and how to get it. He involuntarily took a step back, swallowing hard. His throat felt dry, his body almost electric with anticipation.

Nabiki shook her head. "Relax. I'm not going to jump your bones before the first date. Come on, I've got dinner reservations for us. 'Sides, I like to be kissed before I'm—"

* * *

"Fuck!" snarled Akane. Her wrist throbbed from hitting the stack of cinder blocks out of alignment. She glared at her nemesis. The meter-tall stack of cinderblocks had cracked from top to bottom but remained standing.

Kasumi called to see if she was okay. After placating her worrying sister, Akane wiped the sweat from her brow and decided to call it a day. She cleaned up the debris and went inside to wash up.

She had a nice, refreshing bath which she totally didn't spend thinking about that indigo-haired hussy. Nope, not a single thought spared for that lithe Amazon or her purrs of affection, the smell of her perfume, or how she couldn't keep her damn paws off Ranma. And she certainly didn't contemplate the shower wand's luxurious massage function.

"I am not in denial," she said flatly as she sat in the tub. She sank down further and blew bubbles of frustration. It was time to get out before she really did think about wand-chan's embrace.

Donning her bathrobe, she walked trancelike up to her room. After taking out one of the Kasumi tested, Dad approved cute outfits by rote, Akane halted. She held up the high-waisted skirt and blouse combo. It wasn't as if she didn't think it was cute.

The merest thought of that adorable redhead wearing this outfit put a brick red blush on her face. And if people hadn't tried to push her into this cute box for so long, she might have been comfortable wearing it on her own terms, for the appreciation of the right people. It was time for a change, she decided.

She put the outfit back on the rack and leafed through her closet. At the very back, treasure lay hidden behind layers of linen and lace: acid-washed jeans, a dark blue Versailles band t-shirt, and a black leather bomber jacket. Bought with her own money, but never worn out of a misplaced sense of filial piety.

And goddamnit, they certainly made her feel like a rock star. Heart pounding with anticipation, she descended the stairs. She wondered what Ranma would think of this look. It felt unfair to tease him with something she couldn't give him, but she enjoyed feeling the desire in his gaze.

She remembered Ranma's words: "I like you just the way you are." They echoed through her, strengthening her resolve. There was no sense in trying to pretend.

Unfortunately, Ranma was nowhere to be found. Kasumi was humming along in the kitchen though. "Hey sis, do you know where Ranma is?"

Kasumi turned, absent mindedly polishing a knife. "Ranma has—" Seeing Akane brought her big sister to a complete stop. Kasumi threw up her hands in a start, flinging the knife into the ceiling. The high carbon-steel blade rang like a tuning fork as it embedded into the wood. "Oh me oh my."

"Uh, whatdya think?"

Kasumi's face screwed up in a mix of contradictory emotions. "Well…father wouldn't approve. But I think you're at an age where you can find your own way."

"Is that how you really feel?"

Kasumi dropped the stoic front. She pulled Akane into a warm embrace. "Akane, you are just too cute."

"I'm not really going for cute, sis. More for 'tough'. Or 'metal'. Or even 'don't mess with me.'"

"You're my precious baby sister. You'll always be cute to me."

 _Jeez, I can't even rebel right_ , Akane pouted.

After being released from Kasumi's sisterly affections, Kasumi had her twirl around to get a better look at her. Biting at her thumb, the older girl said, "You know, I hate to say it…but your hair is a bit too long for that look."

"I've been thinking about making a change, to be honest."

"Well think on it some more. It's easier to cut hair than to grow it. In the meantime, I'll put it into a braid for you. Mix that tough look with cute."

Having Kasumi play with her hair reminded her of simpler days. It helped soothe the anxiety over her father's reaction to this act of rebellion, or what Ranma would think about it. Her heart fluttered thinking about it. "So…you never answered my question about Ranma, sis."

"Oh, sorry. He's apparently being dragged out on a date with Nabiki. Something about paying a debt, but to be perfectly honest I don't think that's her real motive."

Akane felt like tempered steel honed to a razor's edge. Her chest felt tight.

"Oh my…you're not jealous, are you?"

"Jealous? Of course not. He's a boy. A boy that turns into a girl. A boy that feels comfortable being a girl. Why would I be jealous?"

"It's alright if you are."

"I'm just concerned. He's sweet; he doesn't need a femme fatale like Nabiki toying with him."

"If you say so."

* * *

Shan Pu lurked in her base of operations, plotting the inevitable victory of world proletarian revolution. Unfortunately, she was stuck on step one: bring this blasted deserter back. Like any good relic of the twentieth century, she spent the afternoon thumbing through her dog-eared copy of _On Guerilla Warfare_ for insights on the current struggle.

Out of that insufferable uniform, she lounged catlike on her futon in the comforting embrace of her BDUs, an earbud in one ear. Through the miracle of disposable prepaid cell phones, she listened to the inane goings-on of the Tendo estate. War is based on deception, and by implication the gathering of intelligence was paramount.

So she spied on Kasumi's little conversations like she was the second coming of Richard Sorge. She'd find the secret to defeating this brat. Unfortunately, she had yet to find any chapters in Mao's many tomes about how to bring bratty martial artists to heel.

Hearing the voice of the middle Tendo sister set Shan Pu on edge. That mercenary girl, who had tortured her, brought her to the edge, humiliated her; it made her blood boil. _She did all that, and didn't have the decency to follow through!_ thought Shan Pu. _Wait, that came out wrong._

To add insult to injury, the tease was talking about taking Ranma out on a date! The nerve! There were's no room for dates and dinner parties in revolution! No way this had anything to do with jealousy. This was a matter of duty to the immortal science of dialectical materialism. No fringe benefits whatsoever in correcting Ranma's dereliction of that duty, no sir. Shan Pu in no way wanted to spend time with that beautiful, dashing boy/girl. It would just be pure martial arts practice…fighting, struggling for dominance, hard bodies entwined together. Nothing sensual whatsoever, just comrades honing their skills for the glorious struggle.

Shan Pu jumped to her feet. She needed to observe this closer if she was to save Ranma from the mercenary girl's clutches. But first, it was time to get ready. After locating the restaurant Nabiki had gotten reservations at (woe unto you Google Maps! You have sold us the rope we will hang you with!), Shan Pu popped in her workout CD. As the rousing chorus of "March of the Volunteers" boomed in her earbuds, Shan Pu began putting on her camouflage facepaint.

She bared her teeth at the bathroom mirror. Still not fearsome enough, but it would have to do. This mission would call for subtlety. Discretion. A deft touch. The 9mm QSZ-92 would have to do, she decided, sliding the matte black pistol into her belt. Flashbangs, tear gas and her trusty Type 87 combat knife followed. Mother said always to have protection during romantic rendezvous; this must've been what she meant.

It only took a few minutes to get to her destination via roofhop express. She began her infiltration unnoticed. If she had more time to prepare, she'd have cased this quaint European style bistro beforehand. From the car park across the street, it looked thoroughly unremarkable. _Too unremarkable_.

She pulled out her binoculars. The wait staff were dressed in anachronistic domestic service uniforms she vaguely remembered from her world history courses. Of course they would subject the noble toiler to such shackles of servility! Truly intolerable!

She consulted her pocket Japanese dictionary. It called itself Café Aloof. It was a strange name, but then again this was a strange land with strange people.

After a few minutes, Shan Pu finally spotted her quarry ambling up the sidewalk. Ranma certainly was a handsome young man, and he filled out those Chinese style outfits _very well_. Her thoughts drifted towards the redhead in a lovely floral qípáo. She'd even settle for seeing the boy in a lovely dress.

Shan Pu abruptly battened down the hatches on her heart. Such thoughts were a distraction from the mission. She focused on that stylish, jet-setting girl hanging on Ranma's arm. Anger was a good focus, and right now she was seeing red. She almost didn't notice another girl darting from rooftop to bush about a block behind.

She almost didn't recognize Akane. But she had to admit the leather suited her. Shan Pu growled, setting aside such distracting thoughts. Apparently the violent-girl wasn't happy with her sister.

She chewed over the situation. Perhaps it was time to form a United Front against Nabiki's imperialist aggression.

It would be difficult rendezvousing with Akane while simultaneously leaving her quarry unawares. She decided on a temporary retreat, using the buildings as concealment to reposition for an advance on the same axis as Akane. She nodded. This was a good plan.

It cost her precious minutes, in which time Nabiki could have abruptly changed course. Try as she might, Shan Pu could never quite shake the feeling that the mercenary girl knew that she was being watched and was just playing along. She stilled the pounding in her chest, and moved up to rendezvous with Akane, utilizing the hedges in the boulevard for concealment.

Unfortunately, Shan Pu did not account for Akane's panicked reaction when she dropped in next to the tomboy. "Shan Pu wish to—" was all she got out before Akane tackled her.

That infuriating girl always turned every fight into a ground fight. This was a problem, because she was quite good at it. But Shan Pu did not resist this time, letting the girl pin her to the sidewalk. The lack of resistance seemed to short-circuit the tomboy's will to fight; she stopped well before maneuvering her into a submission hold. Instead, Akane had glomped on top of her, pinning her hands above her head.

"Nihao tongzhi," said the Amazon. "Shan Pu come to propose united front against the dastardly Nabiki."

"United front?" said Akane, even more vexed than before.

"Shan Pu and Akane join forces in mutual struggle. We rescue Ranma from Nabiki's clutches."

Akane relaxed a millimeter. Shan Pu wasn't sure who'd win in a test of strength. She tore her eyes from the tomboy's swoll biceps. She told herself she was excited at the prospect of testing herself against such a well-developed specimen.

"Okay. I don't know if I trust you, but right now I trust my sister less."

The wolf whistles from passers-by reminded them both of their awkward situation. Akane blushed deeply as she jumped to her feet. It was sweet of her to help Shan Pu up. Their touch lingered dangerously. "Shan Pu think you not regret. Onward to bright future. Aiyah, where Shan Pu manners? Shan Pu seal the pact like comrades of old!"

Akane froze like a deer in the headlights as Shan Pu went through the old Third International custom of the socialist fraternal kiss. She hugged the tomboy close, delivering a kiss to each cheek before a final kiss to the lips. When she pulled away from the final kiss, Akane's lips instinctively followed. It might have been a mistake, but there was no point regretting it. Akane's kiss was absolutely sublime, and where it not for the call of duty she might have indulged more.

* * *

The interior of the _Café Tsun Tsun_ was a phantasmagoria of the surreal. Something just didn't click amid all the frills and lace, and it left Ranma feeling cast away. He stood in the foyer trying to get his bearings until Nabiki playfully pinched his butt.

"Go on, stud, get us a table," she said playfully.

He sauntered over to the front desk and rang the bell. None of the wait-staff seemed to pay any notice. So he rang it again, more insistently. A tall girl came up to the desk, her long brown hair in an immaculate hime cut. She filled out that maid dress _very well_ , and Ranma suddenly wondered why Nabiki had dragged him here.

"Welcome to _Café Tsun Tsun_ ," the girl said, clearly annoyed. "I guess we'll serve you since clearly no one else will."

Ranma blinked. Life on the road had made him used to being an unwanted element, but this was a bit much.

Nabiki piped in. "We'll take a table for two please. Forgive my slackjawed boyfriend; he was raised by wolves."

"Ah, a cherry-boy then," scoffed Kaori. "We'll see if we have room. If not, it's not like you'd appreciate the food anyway."

Nabiki led him by the hand to their table. Kaori ordered for their drinks for them, stating proudly that they didn't know what was good for them. Ranma continued gawking at the hostile waitstaff as the fear started to bubble up.

"Nabiki, why'd you bring me here. This must be the worst place to work for in all of Tokyo…the waitresses look like they're ready to revolt."

Nabiki laughed. "Oh, this is too rich. You really couldn't tell with all the blushing and the protests of 'it's not like we want your business or anything'?"

"Couldn't tell what?"

Kaori returned just in time to be an object lesson. The aloof waitress slammed down a glass of lemonade in front of him. She stared sternly as his eyes flitted from his glass to her. "Well, are you going to try it or not?" Kaori blushed faintly and tore her gaze away, muttering under her breath, "It's not like I made it specially for you or anything."

It reminded him uncomfortably of Akane, and again he wondered what the hell he was doing here. He took a cautious sip. His coos of approval brought a flicker of joy to Kaori's face, which was soon buried under a harsh façade.

"Well. It seems you do have taste," huffed the waitress. She took his and Nabiki's order brusquely before disappearing.

"Nabiki…what the hell just happened?"

The mercenary girl chuckled. "It's a tsundere café, Ranma. They're all being paid to put on this comic caricature where they're struggling with their feelings for you and have a hard time admitting it."

Ranma blinked. "Why?"

Nabiki shrugged. "Some guys get off on this sort of attention."

"Again: why?"

"Okay, I'll explain in terms a jock like you can understand. When you fight an opponent, do you want an easy win?"

He decided to ignore her condescension. "Not really. It doesn't feel like much of an accomplishment. I'd like a good fight where I'm not sure if I can really pull through. It forces me to dig deeper to improve."

"Well, some guys like that with girls." The girl Friday persona cracked as Nabiki stared wistfully into the distance. "They don't want mutual appreciation. They want to conquer them, make them theirs. Getting a girl who is aloof to like you is a bigger notch in their belt."

"How did you get so jaded?"

"I prefer to think I'm just not looking at the world with rose-tinted glasses."

Ranma slurped at his lemonade. "So, why'd you bring me here?"

"Because my idiotic tsundere sister needs a kick in the right direction, and I figure the best way to motivate her is jealousy."

"The right direction?"

"You've heard of 'love at first sight' right?"

"Well yeah."

"You know, I thought it was just a stupid fairy tale trope. You know, the kind of stories people tell to convince themselves the world isn't a harsh and lonely place. But then I saw how you made my dour sister light up with joy for the first time in what seems like forever." Nabiki rested her head on her hand. "Call me nuts, but _I want to believe_."

Ranma's heart thumped. "Love?"

"And speaking of tsundere―" Nabiki suddenly took his hand in hers and went from jaded mercenary girl to moony lovestruck. "Hey Ranma-kun, if I said that you had a great body _would you hold it against me_?"

"Umm."

"Gosh you're cute when you're flustered." Nabiki grinned and slid kitty-corner to him. "You sure do clean up nice." Her fingers traced delicately along the contours of his arm. He shivered under the touch.

Ranma swallowed hard. No matter how hard he wracked his brain, he didn't have a shred of experience to guide him on what to do. It wasn't like her touch or her words were unwelcome. It was just completely new and unfamiliar.

Nabiki pulled in close, practically hanging off his broad shoulders. Her breath tickled at his ear. "Ranma-kun…I'm not wearing any underwear."

"Gah," The red flush on his face rose like a thermometer.

Nabiki leaned back in her chair, smirking. Very deliberately, she uncrossed her legs, drawing Ranma's gaze downward. Just as he caught the hint of bright red fabric, she recrossed her legs. "Made ya look."

"Nabiki, what's gotten into you?"

"Hopefully you later tonight."

"Aaah."

* * *

Akane had to admit, Shampoo cleaned up _very nicely_. When it became clear that this spying would require a deft touch, she'd traded out the army uniform for a crimson cheongsam quick as a flash. The dress lovingly hugged her curves, terminating mid-thigh. _The girl certainly doesn't skip leg day oh me oh my_ , Akane said to herself. _Her eyes are up there, Tendo_.

The strategic use of sunglasses and a paper fan had hidden their identity for a while, but the damn gold hammer and sickle motif on the dress was a huge give-away. Akane was pretty sure Nabiki had noticed fairly quickly, but she and Shampoo kept up the unspoken agreement to act like a cute lesbian couple.

Not that it really helped them blend in. Most everyone patronizing _Café Tsun Tsun_ were very obviously (some would say _painfully_ ) single. The waitress girl seemed to be having a hard-time going through the motions with them.

"We may not have thought this plan through very well."

"If deserter and mercenary girl can have date, then we have date too," Shampoo said defiantly.

Akane smiled. _Okay, let's just roll with it_. She took Shampoo's hand and gently squeezed. Shampoo froze at her touch, then squeezed back. Their eyes locked for a moment. Shampoo tore her gaze over to the lovely couple they were spying on. But a faint blush remained on her cheeks.

"You like her, don't you," stated Akane.

"Mercenary gir—oh, Akane mean Ranma."

 _Him. Totally meant him_. "Yeah, misspoke. It seems like there's more than just abstract duty here."

Shampoo let out a heavy sigh. The soldier-girl's glance suggested that if she told anyone of what followed, she'd die a horrible death. "Ranma most gifted fighter Shampoo ever see. Such talent, but it just game to her. And meal ticket to panda-man. Utterly wasted. But Ranma proud, resourceful. Humble enough in victory. Determined to reverse defeat."

Akane nodded, placing another hand on Shampoo's.

"We talked, actually. She seemed impressed when told her of position in Falcons. We had a friendly match; she won. There was no hard feelings. Felt heart flutter. Learn later she enlist. Overjoyed. But joy turn sorrow. She desert. Shampoo beaten by deserter trash, humiliated. Worse, great-grandmother visit. Disgrace not only People's Liberation Army, but also tribe. Have to bring back deserter, great-grandmother say I must invoke kiss of death, chase to ends of the earth."

"I'm so sorry, Shampoo. She infuriates me sometimes too, but she's never been malicious."

"Shampoo know that now. You like her too."

"I don't like her that way!" Akane protested, the heat rising in her cheeks. "'Sides, she's actually boy."

Shampoo cocked an eyebrow. "Strange how you can admit being lesbian but can't admit how you feel about Ranma."

 _I've been called out_ , she said to herself, briefly contemplating derailing this conversation with a violent outburst. No point really, she decided. They both had complicated feelings for the same person. No use lying.

"Fine, I like him. Her. Grr, this is so confusing. I know he's actually a boy. He thinks of himself as a boy. But I first met her as a girl. And when she's a girl it's so easy to forget. And I feel horrible for wanting him to be a girl."

"Shampoo admit, sometimes forget too."

Akane realized she'd stopped paying attention to her older sister's strange plot. She glanced over at their table to find that Nabiki was smirking right back at her. Nabiki put on a lovestruck act, and poor Ranma seemed totally oblivious to the wolf in sheep's clothing inching closer to him.

Shampoo noticed too, squeezing her hand with a white-knuckle grip. She squeezed back. _Long may the United Front endure, I guess…_

Watching the mockery unfold was supremely difficult. The urge to intervene became overpowering, almost irresistible. Almost as confusing was the poor boy's reaction to Nabiki's advances. She knew he was from the wrong side of the tracks, but it was almost like no one had ever shown desire for him before.

It suddenly clicked. And what Nabiki was doing went immediately from being merely repulsive to _unforgiveable_. Her body moved on its own, until she felt herself being roughly pulled back. She landed in Shampoo's lap, their faces mere centimeters apart. "She can't get away with this," Akane hissed.

"You making mistake."

"Nabiki is toying with him. I have to stop her."

"She know we watch. She provoke you."

Akane glanced back to Nabiki. Her older sister's frustration was visible. Her nerves began to calm. And she realized that she was now sitting in Shampoo's lap, arms wrapped around one another. It was a really bad time to get distracted by how lusciously red Shampoo's lipstick was.

"A-Akane?" said a familiar voice. "Sh-shampoo?"

The two tore their gaze away to find Nabiki sitting in Ranma's lap, smirking. And Ranma looking back with a mixture of hurt, confusion and arousal on his face. _Damnit Nabiki!_

All four simultaneously said "This isn't what it looks like." Three sincerely, the forth sarcastically. The café manager arrived just after, curtly informing the group that since martial arts action/comedy hijinks are not covered under their insurance, they must vacate the premises.

"We weren't gonna start nothin," Ranma protested.

"Be that as it may," the man said, running a hand through his gelled salt and pepper hair. "But he clearly was." The manager pointed to the bay window in the front of the café.

Kuno Tatewaki pressed his face up to the glass, his glare flitting between Nabiki and Shampoo. Jets of steam erupted from his ears and nostrils, fogging over the glass.

Shampoo cracked her knuckles. "Explanations later. Fight now."

* * *

Kuno had brought the whole kendo club again. They'd must have been itching for this rematch, because they'd improved quite noticeably. With the short but wily Sasuke joining the fray, they fared well against the three martial artists.

Ranma decided to respect the manager's wishes this time, declaring "time out!" before Kuno came through the glass. Per mutual agreement, they took their scuffle to the lovely park across the street from the café.

"Okay…go," Ranma shouted.

"Unhand fair Akane, you Red savage!" said Kuno, picking right back up where he left off. _Stormbringer_ in hand, he charged straight at the Amazon.

 _I'm going to have to get used to him not wanting to kill me_ , thought Ranma. Kuno's retainers used his distraction from not being the center of attention to gang up on him. They got a few good cheap-shots in before he broke out the scrum.

Unfortunately for them, Ranma's greatest strength was in rematches. And while there were twelve of them, they were utterly predictable. In the dimly lit park, they spent as much time tripping over themselves as attacking him, allowing the boy to bob and weave through their number. Ranma attacked from their flanks, and redirected their bokken into friendly fire incidents. Ill disciplined for this kind of fight, they went down quickly. And unlike the last clash, this one was _fun_.

Meanwhile, Kuno was utterly shocked to find his beauteous Akane standing in between him and his quarry, his bokuto trapped between her palms.

The look of shock on his face was…priceless. Howling her war cry, Akane snap-kicked him in the face. "I can fight my own battles. And I don't want you or your help," she snarled.

Kuno wrenched his sword free and set his defense. The shock had worn off. "Very well, Akane. If you defeat me in combat, I shall allow you to date with me."

Rolling her eyes, Akane charged again. Her legs throbbed every time he blocked her kicks, but she pressed on. It was a good pain, because Kuno wasn't holding back this time. She'd face him at his best _and she would crush him_. Vengeance swelled within her, pressing her on. Each time he'd attack, she'd counterattack, spoiling his offensive. It was a little trick she'd picked up from Ranma, never let the enemy determine the terms of the fight. Always disrupt them, force them to _react_ instead of _act_.

Her shouts filled the evening air. Bit more aggressive about it than Ranma. She saw the frustration build on Kuno's face. Good. Get him vulnerable, get him _desperate._ When he overextended his next slash, she played to her strength. The tomboy stepped inside the arc of his blade and locked his wrist.

Before he even knew what happened, she'd entwined her legs around his arm and neck, slamming him face-down with her body-weight. The impact rattled her bones, but she kept him trapped in the vice-grip of her thighs. It was as close as he'd ever get to his prize. With a sharp tug on his wrist, she felt his shoulder pop out. She released him a moment later, feeling a pang of guilt at his whimpering.

While Akane instructed Kuno on the errors of hubris, Shampoo tangled with Sasuke. Or rather, chased him around the park because ninjas don't fight fair.

After having run him up and down the park three times, dodging his smoke-bombs and kunai, Shampoo remembered her _On Guerilla Warfare_. It was pleasantly surprisingly that it would prove to be directly applicable, and not merely metaphorical. Short-boy was trying to draw her away from aiding any of the other fights.

So she ignored him, and charged in to aid Ranma in his battle royale with the kendo club. Cursing, the short-boy chased after her shouting, "Stop! You're supposed to walk into my trap, not away from it!"

She parried his next flurry of kunai. But now that he was out in the open, away from the brambles and trees, she decided she wasn't too proud to bring a gun to a knife-fight. The poor guy turned white as a sheet when she drew the pistol. He threw his hands up to surrender.

"Rubber bullets," she said with a smirk. Then shot him in both legs. Sasuke collapsed, clutching the rapidly forming welts on his leg.

By the time she returned, the battles were over. The beat up remnants of the kendo club were collecting their fallen leader and limping away. Ranma was a little beaten up, but the worst that could be said was that his nice shirt had been ruined. Akane was limping as thunder rumbled in the distance.

"So…" Ranma started, "I guess we have some things we need to talk about."

"Yeah," Akane said, averting her eyes.

"Nabiki said she'd asked for this date to make you jealous," he said, the first drops of rain plinking on the grass.

Shampoo edged up closer. Akane blushed, her hackles raising. "Well, that's absurd. Why would I be jealous."

"Then why'd you spy on me?"

"I…uh" she stammered, taking a step back.

Shampoo blocked her retreat. "Go on. Be honest."

"Fine…I was jealous. Okay, I admit it. I was worried about you, and I still don't know what you mean to me. Just that you're important."

The rain came pouring and within moments the black-haired boy was the red-haired source of her vexation. Ranma let out a heavy sigh. "Okay. I can live with that. I still don't know what you mean to me. A part of me feels like I'm rushing too fast, that I'm young and don't know what I really want. But another part of me feels like there's been an eternity leading up to this moment."

It was good that it was raining, they decided. It would hide their trickle of tears. "You've just said exactly what I'm feeling," Akane said.

"Then, at the very least, we're not alone."

Ranma startled when Shampoo wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Wrapping another arm around Akane's shoulder, the soldier-girl beamed. "Fellow sufferers then! Follow Shampoo. Shampoo place close, we get out of rain."

* * *

Elsewhere, a rugged young man ambled along innocent pavements. A yellow bandana held back a mop of unkempt black hair. Vengeance burned in his heart. Finally, after such a tremendous struggle, Saotome Ranma was in reach.

"Ranma…" the boy growled, "I can't forgive you for toying with my poor glass heart. You will rue the day you ran out on Ryoga Hibiki!"

He glanced back at his map. He flipped it upside down. And then again. Just as soon as he found his way to Furinkan, Ranma would pay!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shampoo is a joy to write for. I hope you all enjoy her moonbattery as much as I have. I changed the proper spelling of her name in this chapter; a friend linked me to some problems with the fanon Anglicization of her proper Chinese name, which is written out once in the manga. It's a minor edit that will have been changed in the preceding chapter by the time you read this.
> 
> Same as always, look forward to hearing from you, as I always welcome reviews, especially constructive criticism.


	5. Beach Episode (Postponed)

**V: Beach Episode (Postponed)**

It was the new normal at Furinkan High. Shampoo had managed to go a whole week without blowing up her locker. Almost. There’d been a suspicious package discovered at lunch today, and Ranma had been too busy being grilled by Yuka and Sayuri about why Akane seemed so much happier and bubblier lately.

It was going to take forever to get that hand made chocolate off the walls. While Shampoo had been practicing her Jackson Pollock impression, Akane was busy beating Kuno into a pulp. It was good he wasn’t holding back anymore, but Kasumi was getting rather worried about all the welts across Akane’s arms and legs. It was never good to make onee-chan worry.

As Ranma gathered his shoes from the twisted metal wreck that had once been his shoe locker, he wondered if this was what normal was like. Sure it was more raucous than the usual high school life, but he had two good friends he hung out with after school. A nice house to come home to, delicious home-cooked meals, and a surrogate older sister who loved him. Even Pop was getting less stern and more fatherly, teaching him shogi, or taking him fishing.

_Is this what happiness feels like?_ he asked himself, stepping out into the warm sunny afternoon. No guiding spirit answered him. Something gnawed at him, like this idyllic life was going to come crashing down any minute, but at least for right now he was content.

Shampoo was waiting with Akane. They sat on the front steps huddled up close as Akane tried her best to get the flecks of chocolate and frosting cleaned from the girl’s face.

“Honestly Sham-chan,” growled Akane. She rubbed the handkerchief roughly over the soldier-girl’s cheeks. “It was chocolate, not a booby trap. I understand why you might be angry at some bozo who can’t talk to you face-to-face, but blowing up his present is a bit excessive.”

“Shampoo take no chances.”

“School lockers don’t get booby-trapped.”

“Akane obviously have different school life than Shampoo.”

Akane blinked. “You’re kidding me.”

“Shampoo no kid. Older cadets and officers love testing the plebs.”

Ranma sat down next to Akane, conscious of the distance between their bodies. “You ready to go?”

Akane nodded. “I suppose this will have to do. I dunno how she went all day like this, it’d drive me crazy.”

“Is just chocolate,” Shampoo said with a shrug, “it not like there be inspection. Little bit dirt no bother Shampoo, been far worse.”

“You two should really think about joining a club so you don’t have to wait around for me,” Akane said, blushing faintly.

It didn’t escape his notice that Akane had shifted, her thigh now pressed against his. Why did she have to be so cute? “Nah, it’s no trouble. I mostly just shoot the shit with Hiroshi and Daisuke. They loan me manga occasionally. They showed me this new one, _Tetsuwan Birdy_ , it’s about a boy who turns into a girl. Well, sorta…”

“Ranma, that manga is older than we are.”

“It is? Drat, here I was thinking it was something cool and new.”

“Raised by a panda. Honestly, I think this counts as neglect. You’re like thirty years out of date on pop-culture.”

“Hey, how was I supposed to know that Pop’s taste in music, movies and fashion was from the 1980s?”

Akane laughed as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He unconsciously mirrored her. As she rested her head against his, she said, “It’s alright though. It means I get to show you this whole new world.”

Shampoo wriggled in between, hugging both cheek to cheek. “Yes! Best friends make new world together!”

_Yup, friends_ , thought Ranma, trying to suppress the tingly feeling wherever their skin touched. Shampoo always smelled nice, but today her usual perfume had given way to luscious scent of chocolate. Dad said sweets were a girly luxury, and seldom let him indulge in them. An image of Shampoo, naked except for a drizzle of chocolate sauce over her body, popped into his head. He decided it was time to get up before he had to hide an awkward tent in his pants.

“Well, I suppose we should be getting back,” said Ranma, awkwardly scratching his neck.

Shampoo jumped to her feet, still pressed up against him. “Want play with Shampoo?”

“We should really get our homework done first,” Akane interrupted. “If you want to come with us, I guess we could make room for you. Guess I could help you work on your Japanese…it’d be real troublesome if we couldn’t understand you, that’s all.”

Ranma recalled _Café Tsun Tsun_ and squirmed uncomfortably. _Nah, can’t be_ , he said to himself.

“Yes! _Tongzhi_ Akane teach Shampoo to be cunning linguist,” cried Shampoo.

Akane’s faint blush turned bright red. Ranma assumed there was some unintentional innuendo he didn’t get and shrugged. And tried to not think about how cute Akane and Shampoo would be together.

When they reached the gates, Ranma tripped over an intense wave of déjà vu. A young man, at once familiar and alien, stood beyond the gates. He kept his tousled hair tied back with a black-spotted yellow bandana. A flicker of wounded vulnerability appeared on his face, now hidden behind a mask of scowling hatred.

“Saotome Ranma! I’ve come to destroy your happiness!”

The man’s name was on the tip of his tongue, but Ranma couldn’t place it. Ranma said, “Could you not? I finally found it, and I don’t wanna lose it.” It had come across much more cheekily than he intended. But he supposed there wasn’t much point in being polite so someone coming to ruin his life.

“Because of you, I’ve seen hell! Why would I give you mercy after what you did?”

Ranma held his arms out in front of Akane and Shampoo. They both bared their teeth and assumed fighting stances, but otherwise respected his wishes to not interfere. “Listen, you look familiar, but I honestly can’t place you.” Ranma held his hands out non-threateningly as he approached cautiously.

The interloper remained stiff as an iron rod but didn’t make any aggressive moves. The man was a few centimeters taller than Ranma. His golden muscle shirt clung tightly to his barrel chest and left the rippling muscles of his arms uncovered. When Ranma got up close and saw the boyish face half-hidden behind his bangs, it finally dawned on him. “Ryouga? It’s you isn’t it? Wow this is great, I missed you man!”

Ryouga took a step back, his fists unclenching. His mouth hung open, the severity giving way to uncertainty.

“Dude! You got jacked! I’m proud of you. And you’re taller than me now.” Ranma smiled warmly, giving him a playful punch to the shoulder. “Still can’t tie your bandana right though. Here, lemme fix it for you.”

The other boy froze as Ranma reached up and undid Ryouga’s bandana. He gathered up handfuls of the boy’s black hair, sweeping the unkempt hair back.

“You could probably use a haircut, but this’ll do for now. I dunno how you saw anything before. There, good as new. So how you been, man?” He rested his wrists on Ryouga’s shoulders, beaming at him.

The uncertainty turned into a scowl. Ryouga roughly shoved him back. “How have I been? You ran out on me! Because of you I’ve seen hell!”

“What? It was middle school, I didn’t have a choice. Pop chose to move, not me.”

“Excuses! We were supposed to meet after school. By the time I showed up, you’d already run away!”

“Ryouga, I waited til’ midnight for you to show up.”

“Yeah, and if you’d just waited a few more hours I’d have made it.”

“You got lost going from homeroom to the baseball diamond.”

“That’s besides the point! You embarrassed and humiliated me!”

“Ryouga, if us sparring together meant that much to you, I truly am sorry. But you can’t blame me for this.”

Ryouga clenched his fists. He took an aggressive kenpo stance, like a bomb primed to detonate. “Sparring?” he spat, “You think this is about sparring? I’m going to make you pay for this humiliation.”

Akane stepped in. “No, you’re not. Not like this you’re not.”

Ryouga cast a death glare at her. “So is this how it’s gonna be? Letting your _girlfriend_ fight your battles for you?”

Something about the way he said ‘girlfriend’ troubled Ranma. “First, she’s not my girlfriend. Second, what’s it to you, bub? If you want us to settle this, you’re going to do it right. Courtesy says you give one-week notice for all challenges. So you’re going to go home and think about this, and then we’re going to meet back up here, one week from today, and you can decide if you want to tell me what this is really about, or if it’s worth fighting over.”

Ryouga’s gaze flitted between the three martial artists. His poise relaxed a centimeter. “Fine. There’s just one problem.”

“Yeah?”

Ryouga sheepishly poked his index fingers together. “I can’t really find my way home.”

He should’ve expected it, but it still floored Ranma. When he picked himself back up, he muttered, “Still got that awful sense of direction. Fine, do you at least know the address?”

“I’m lost, I’m not an idiot,” hissed Ryouga.

“Fine. Shampoo will help you find your way back.” Ranma nodded at the confused soldier-girl.

“Why Shampoo?” she said.

“Cuz of the three of us, you’ve gotten along best with him.”

“Shampoo getting ready to neutralize threat,” she said, still confused.

“Like I said, got along the best with him. There’s nothing personal between you two.”

Ryouga shrugged. “I guess it will do.”

Ranma patted Shampoo on the shoulder gently. He whispered, “See if you can find out more about why he’s so lit up about fighting me.”

“Roger!” she said, beaming.

* * *

Shan Pu and Ryouga walked in silence, the Amazon reluctantly holding his hand. After he nearly wandered off the wrong way twice, she figured it was necessary. He seemed annoyed by the gesture but relented.

Ryouga decided to fill the silence first. “So, how do you know Ranma?”

“Do it really matter to you?” she hissed.

“Not really. Suppose I’m curious who he threw me away for.”

“Lost-boy really know how hold grudge.”

Ryouga tugged defiantly on her hand. “It’s not just a grudge. Don’t belittle my pain.”

“Ranma have nothing but affection for you. Yet you still hate him. That’s stupid.”

“You wouldn’t understand?”

Shan Pu dragged Ryouga to a halt. “Okay, you and I going to understand each other.” _Before I go back on my promise to get you home safely_.

He avoided her eyes, but he listened. They’d come to a stop by a park. Shan Pu found a bench beneath a stone statue, and roughly shoved him in it. She sat on the statue plinth, resting her feet on the bench.

“Shampoo not here in Japan by choice. Well, not initially. Ranma’s trash father take him to China on training trip. Trash father sign Ranma up with Army, then abscond with girl and money.”

“Girl?”

Shan Pu broke out in a cold sweat. “Shampoo misspoke,” she recovered. “Anyway, Shampoo sent to return deserter. But get beaten…get stupid, give kiss of death to Ranma. He hurt Shampoo pride, but got over it. He actually very sweet. Don’t want to bring him back against his will. Friendship mean too much.”

Her eyes grew misty. Ryouga nodded knowingly. “You love him, don’t you?”

She nodded. Ryouga let out a heavy sigh as he looked up at the statue. “Why couldn’t I be made out of stone?” he said mournfully.

It suddenly clicked. “You’re in love with him.”

Ryouga froze. His hands clenched tightly to the bench, crushing the wood beneath his fingers. “You can’t tell a word of this to anyone,” he said sternly.

“Shampoo promise.”

“When he abandoned me… I wasn’t going there to spar with him. I was going there to confess to him. I spent the whole school year wrestling with my feelings for Ranma. I left him a note in his locker. The idiot must’ve not noticed it was a love note. When I finally got there, he was gone. Worse, it was an all-boys school and some of the other boys found my love letter.”

Shampoo patted him gently. His hand shot up, not to bat hers away, but to hold it to his shoulder. She swore she could feel the loneliness bubbling up in him. “Ryouga not alone.”

“He humiliated me. He threw my feelings right back in my face. How can I not hate him?”

“ _Airen_ be idiot sometimes, but he not cruel. Not certain, think you still have chance.”

“How can you be so dense? Did you see the way he was with that Akane girl? He’s head over heels for her.”

Shan Pu chose to omit Akane’s own complicated feelings towards Ranma. “Yeah, they very very close. But Akane is lesbian. She not attracted to men.”

“How do you know?”

“Cuz we go on date together. Trust Shampoo, she is wise in the ways of love.” That was certainly stretching the truth. _But Ryouga doesn’t need to know the messy details_.

“I thought you liked him?” Ryouga said, genuinely confused.

“Shampoo like boys and girls. Not certain, but think Ranma like both too, but he not realize it yet. What about you?”

Ryouga sighed. “I haven’t a clue. There’s only been Ranma. I’m still figuring this out. All I can say is that I try not to think about it because it only ends up making me hurt.”

“Don’t give up hope, kay?” Shan Pu hopped down. She pulled the lost boy to his feet, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Come, let’s get you home. Shampoo keep secret for you. Just…promise you’ll think about telling him instead of fighting.”

Ryouga nodded. “I can’t promise I’ll do it, but I will think about it. Thank you…for listening.”

* * *

Ranma was sunning himself this lazy Saturday morning. The air was crisp, and the birds were pleasantly chirping in the trees, and at least for now, he felt at peace. But chaos is patient. And just when he was on the verge of dozing off, a bucket of cold water was dumped over him.

Nabiki smirked as she dangled the empty pail over her.

“Oy, whacha do that for?” cried Ranma

“Get up, lazy cat, we’ve got things to do.”

“C-cat?”

Nabiki cocked an eyebrow. “Interesting,” she muttered. “Anyway, you and I have some shopping to do.”

“And why do I gotta be cold and wet for it?”

“We’re going swimsuit shopping, dear. Might help for you to be a girl”

Ranma grumbled as she wrung out her a-shirt. “Why can’t I just wear trunks like I always do?”

“Ranma, don’t be dumb. The moment you get in the water, you’ll be flashing the whole beach. You should probably save that for private showings with your little girlfriends.”

“Shut up…” Ranma muttered as her cheeks started to flush.

“’Sides, wouldn’t you like to have Akane-chan see you in a cute swimsuit?”

Swallowing hard, Ranma continued to deny it as the blush spread all over her face. After trudging upstairs, she wondered where the mercenary girl was getting such strange ideas about her.

Nabiki had, once again, followed her into her room, this time carrying a selection of hand-me-down clothing

“Nabiki, I can dress myself, I’m practically an adult.”

“No, but it’s cute that you think that,” said Nabiki, patting her on the head. “Besides, all your clothes are dirty.”

“Shows what you know! There are many stages of dirty,” Ranma announced, picking up a crumpled shirt from the floor. “See, this one is practically fresh, I only wore it two or three times.”

Nabiki yanked it out of her hand. “It smells like sweat and _boy_. For cryin’ out loud, you even have someone willing to do your laundry for you.”

Ranma yanked it back. “It’s perfectly fine!” She took an experimental sniff and nearly gagged. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

A flicker of vulnerability flashed on Nabiki’s face. “Just remember, you’re not a guest, you’re home. Okay?”

Ranma nodded and finally relented. She went through a couple of the ensembles before selecting some acid washed shorty-shorts and an edgy t-shirt with some English words on the front. “This is nice, kinda ‘punk’. You think Akane would like it? I mean, not that I’m dressin’ up for her or nothin’.”

“I think it’s great Ranma-kun,” Nabiki said with a snicker.

“What’s so funny.”

“It’s just the words aren’t very punk.”

“What’s it say? I’m a bit behind in English.”

“Well, the translation loses something cuz it rhymes. It says ‘hugs not drugs.’”

“Well damn…”

“Still, you fit Kasumi’s hand-me-downs quite nicely. Come on, we’ve got a train to catch.”

After saying their goodbyes, Nabiki led her to the train station. They only stopped once to con some street vendors out of some free food.

Nabiki juggled an armful of takoyaki, tomorokoshi, and shioyaki. “I must say, I’m impressed Ranma. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Ranma munched on her own tomorokoshi, her pack filled with wrappers of sticky sweet taiyaki. “I used to do it all the time when I was little. I just mostly did the same thing.”

“This is quite a haul. I didn’t even hardly do a thing.”

“I guess I’m just that cute.”

“Normally you protest when I call you cute.”

“Umm…this is different. It’s free food.”

“Sure it is, Ran-chan.”

Having already taken care of lunch, they squeezed onto a busy noon train. Packed like sardines, they stood huddled together on the train to Shibuya, Ranma hanging onto the other girl’s shoulders for balance. Nabiki’s hand found the small of her back, and the redhead froze.

“Oh my, won’t Akane be jealous?” Nabiki teased.

“We’re not like that, Nabiki!”

“Oh, so you’re more into older women then, pressing up against me so shamelessly.”

“It’s a crowded train!”

“You’re too easy to tease, Ranma.”

“Why do you do this?” Ranma relaxed as Nabiki’s hand left her back. Her embarrassment turned to irritation when the older girl instead chose to pinch her cheeks.

“It’s because you’re so clueless. You get all embarrassed and surprised every time someone shows the slightest amount of affection to you cuz you honestly don’t know how much of a stud you are. Well, knockout babe right now.”

“S-shut up,” cried Ranma, blushing furiously.

“You’ve done a great job charming that Shampoo girl. Though honestly, I think you’re a better fit for my little sister. You get all blushy every time I mention the possibility of you two being an item. There’s no use denying it.”

“Fine, I’ll admit, I like her a lot. But I’m a guy.”

“Are you?”

“Ain’t it obvious?”

“She says, while pressing her d-cups into me. While on the way to pick out a cute girl’s swimsuit.”

Ranma froze. The usual protest of ‘but I’m a guy’ just didn’t feel right. It felt like there had been something unfamiliar, sleeping inside her for years and now waking up. Her words died in her throat.

Nabiki’s feral grin softened. The mercenary girl must’ve seen the thinly veiled fear on her face, and for whatever reasons she decided not to press the issue any further.

“You’re trying to push me,” Ranma said in a low whisper. “Push me into dating your sister. Why?”

“I don’t usually believe in sappy stuff. I’ve buried my own maidenly feelings. Maybe someday I’ll unfreeze my heart, but for right now I’m on the path I need to be on. But my sister…I don’t want her to be alone. This might sound crazy, but I feel like I’ve known you in another life. There’s this feeling of unfinished business hanging around you, and it makes me want to help. And if you tell another living soul I said this, not only will they not believe you, I’ll leave you in a shallow grave somewhere in Hokkaido. Got it?”

Ranma nodded. “Okay. Let’s say, hypothetically, I do have feelings for Akane.”

“Of course, purely hypothetical.”

“If that were the case, I wouldn’t be able to make the first move. Even if I was, pure speculation, capable of being a girl for her, she’d have to be the one to make the first move. Because I can’t risk what I do have with her unless she decides she can date someone who is also a guy.”

Nabiki patted Ranma’s head. “You know, you may be the first boy she’s ever known who took her at her word about being a lesbian.”

“That’s kind of sad.”

The train lurched to a halt. The shifting mass of commuters pressed Ranma even tighter to Nabiki. As she lost her balance, she clung tight to the taller girl.

“You’re sending mixed signals, Ran-chan,” teased Nabiki.

Ranma squirmed until the disembarking commuters gave her the space to pull away from Nabiki. It almost escaped her notice that Nabiki was blushing faintly. The girl patted her reassuringly as they found their way to the exit.

“So…” Ranma started, unsure how to broach the subject.

“Don’t get me wrong, Ranma. You’re cute as fuck, but I’m not on the market.”

“So…you like girls too then?”

“I have…a diverse appetite. But like I said, this ice queen is not on the market.”

Shibuya was a carnival of neon lights and gaudy advertisements. The endless lines of cars, the throngs of shoppers crowding the sidewalks; it was all so overwhelming. Ranma could barely hear herself think amid the cacophony. This busy commercial district was packed with more people than she could imagine existing, and it stretched out as far as the eye could see.

Sensing her trepidation, Nabiki took her hand and led her onwards. The upscale clothing shop Nabiki led her to was blissfully quiet. Ranma felt herself unwinding in the pleasant air-conditioned shop. The air smelled of cinnamon, the walls soothing cool tones. Fashionable twenty-somethings filled the aisles.

Nabiki tried to tug her onwards, but she found herself digging her heels in. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid, but I feel like an invader.”

“Ranma, you belong as much as anyone else. Come on, let’s get you that cute swimsuit.”

She nodded, taking the first hesitant step. When nothing bad happened, she took another. Before she knew it, she was at the swimsuit section.

Unfortunately, when all the swimsuits look cute, and there’s a thousand of them, choices are bad. After pondering what seemed like the hundredth option only to return it to the rack, Nabiki thrust three hangers in her hands and shoved her into the dressing room.

Ranma swallowed hard as she looked at them. She closed her eyes as she undressed. Somehow, it was easier to not see it. After a bit of fumbling, she managed to slip into the one-piece. The synthetic fabric clung tightly to her body as she stretched. Heart racing, she opened her eyes.

She saw a gorgeous woman in a blue and green one-piece looking back at her in the mirror. Butterflies danced in her belly. A queer sense of _joy_ filled her in knowing that knock-out babe was her. The swimsuit felt right. She didn’t feel quite confident enough to try the two-piece bikinis that Nabiki had handed her, but she could still see a bit of her muscle definition through the blue fabric.

There was something enticing in the swimsuits high collar, like one of those chokers she’d seen the fashionable girls wear. And the cleavage window was just racy enough to be daring without making her feel too exposed.

She did a few poses in the mirror, starting with some masculine strongman poses. It looked good. On impulse, she blew a kiss at the mirror, and to her pleasant surprise didn’t mind what she saw. She tried out a few other poses she’d seen in gravure shots. Feeling sexy warmed her heart.

She played with her pig-tail. The girl in the mirror looked adorably indecisive, and she started to understand just how differently others might see her than she saw herself. She pulled the hair-tie off and shook her hair loose. The tight braid came undone. Her hair hung around her shoulders like wavy red curtains. She didn’t much like it, and the thought of fighting with her hair down made her blanch.

She started rebraiding her hair into a looser French braid. A few loose locks framed the sides of her face. It felt refreshing trying something different.

Nabiki rapped on the changing room door. “Ranma, hurry it up. The suspense is killing me.”

It was one thing to put on a show for herself. It was quite another to be seen by other people. Taking a deep breath, she proudly threw the door open and strutted out.

Nabiki gawked for a minute before tearing her eyes away. Blushing, she said, “Well, that’s certainly a flattering look. I think you’ve got a winner there. I…I need to try on some too. Don’t wander too far.”

A smile crept up on Ranma’s face as Nabiki disappeared inside the changing booth. It was a strange new experience, but she couldn’t say she didn’t like it. She put her shorts and shirt back on over the swimsuit, knotting the t-shirt into a crop-top. Only the word “hugs” was visible now.

While Nabiki took her sweet time, Ranma browsed the cosmetics far more boldly than she would’ve thought possible. She almost felt like she was in disguise, and for a blissful moment she didn’t have to live up to her father’s expectations of becoming a man among men. If she wasn’t a man among men, she could browse the make up for anything she might fancy, right?

A hard body bumped into her. Snarling, she spun around to face the interloper.  “Oy, what’s the big id—”

Ryouga was standing there, looking thoroughly lost and confused. “Oh, I’m sorry miss, didn’t see you there.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” she stammered. She still felt quite cross towards Ryouga for showing up yesterday full of piss and vinegar, trying his best to trample over the fond memories she had of him. But she hid that and slid deeper into this mask.

“You wouldn’t happen to know the way to Furinkan, would you? I’ve been trying to find my way to the high school there since I have a very important engagement, but I seem to have lost my way.”

“Oh that’s up in Nerima. Shibuya station isn’t far away, you just need to take the line up to Nerima station and you won’t be far.”

“Shibuya? I thought I was in Osaka…that’s why everyone was talking so upscale…you know, you look really familiar. My name’s Hibiki Ryouga, have we met before?”

“Oh, we probably crossed paths before,” she said, squirming.

“Far out. What’s your name, miss?”

Like an idiot, she almost gave out her real name, which would either lead to the inevitable spilling of the beans about the curse, or Ryouga getting some hare-brained idea that Ranma had stolen her name and giving him more fuel for his vengeance quest. She squirmed for a minute while she searched for a name. She touched on a memory buried in her, and at the tip of that iceberg there was a name.

“Yoiko,” they both said simultaneously.

“Maybe we have met before,” said Ryouga with a laugh.

“I guess so.”

“Wish I could remember where. Call it crazy, but I feel like I already know you, like you’re my long lost little sister or something.”

Well she did remember their friendship in middle school quite fondly, but right now Ryouga had no way of knowing who she was. And something didn’t feel right about thinking he was like a brother to her.

Nabiki emerged from the changing room wearing a very racy red side-tie bikini. She flashed a devilish grin at Ranma. Ranma wondered what the mercenary girl’s angle was. _Does she think I’m chatting up some hot stud?_ she asked herself. _Wait,_ _since when did I think of Ryouga as a hot stud?_

Before Nabiki could say anything, Ranma cried, “Oh hey Nabiki, this is Ryouga. He apparently got lost on his way to Nerima.”

Recognition lit up on Nabiki’s face. “Oh I see. So Ryouga, you two met before?”

“You mean Yoiko and me? I think it’s the first time, but she seems real familiar.”

Nabiki chuckled. “Oh, you might be surprised. You probably met her in middle school.”

Ranma squirmed as she tried to mime to Nabiki to wave off. This only amused the mercenary girl further. Ryouga was completely oblivious. “I mean, maybe, but I went to an all-boys school.”

Nabiki strutted up to Ryouga. Batting her eyelashes, she rang her fingers along the lost boy’s jaw, nudging him gently to look at her. “Well, _Yoiko_ and I need to pay for our purchases. But since we’re from Nerima we can lead you back.”

“That’s mighty kind of you, but I wouldn’t want to impose,” Ryouga said, completely unfazed.

Ranma blinked, taking a half step back. _If Nabiki did that to me I’d turn into silly putty,_ she said to herself. _Ryouga’s so suave with the ladies._

Nabiki placed her hands on Ryouga’s broad shoulders. Her arms pressed her breasts together, emphasizing her cleavage. “No, I insist. You must have something or someone real important to do in Nerima.”

Ranma rolled her eyes, but Nabiki kept up the act until Ryouga relented. As they paid for the swimsuits, and some blue eyeliner, the redhead glared daggers at Nabiki.

“What?” the mercenary girl said, feigning obliviousness.

“Ryouga may be an old friend, but right now he’s trying to kill me.”

“Yes, and you have a foolproof way of trying to find out why.”

“What, you want me to make eyes at him and have him fall for me like Kuno. No thanks, Nabiki, I’m not interested in that.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m pretty certain he’s not into _Yoiko_ like that.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Either he’s a perfect gentleman and didn’t bat an eyelash at either us scantily clad hotties, or he’s just plain not into girls.”

“Are you saying he’s gay? No way.”

“Well, he could be asexual. But him chasing you down after years really has gotten my noggin’ joggin’.”

“Get out. You’re not saying he’s into my boy-side, are you?”

Ryouga put an early end to the conversation by wandering up. He smiled at Ranma like some lost puppy dog, and suddenly it was impossible to be angry with him. She took his hand and led him out of the store.

Thankfully, the trip back was not as packed. It gave the two space to talk while Nabiki busied herself with her phone.

Ranma wasn’t one for subtlety. “So,” she said, “you seemed pretty urgent to get back to Nerima. Mind if I ask what for?”

Nabiki groaned at her fishing question. Ryouga was completely oblivious though. “Well, it’s gonna sound bad, but I have a duel with someone.”

“Sounds serious. What do you want to fight him for?”

“It’s complicated.”

She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You can tell me.”

“Well, he was once my best friend. Then he abandoned me. He didn’t even give me a chance to say goodbye. The rest is too shameful to say.”

“You sure.”

“I know you’re trying to help, but women just can’t understand the bonds between men.”

Ranma scoffed. “You’d be surprised.”

* * *

Ranma decided to work out her frustrations when she got home by sparring with Akane. After a bit of a playful warmup, she decided to switch things up a bit and try to bring the fight to the ground on her terms.

When Akane pinned her the third time, she decided maybe she wasn’t going to be too proud to ask for help. Akane relaxed her submission hold as the redhead groaned but kept her playfully pinned face down in the mat. Akane chuckled, “Ranma, while I admire your enthusiasm, it’s like you _want_ me to pin you.”

Ranma wriggled free of her grip. Akane’s hammer lock was brutal, and when the tomboy finally let her sit up, she rubbed the sore joint. Akane tutted as she sat seiza beside her. “I’m never going to get better if I don’t practice. ‘Sides, Ryouga moves like a ground fighter so I figure it’s important.”

“You’re pretty hung up on this fight with him.”

Ranma nodded and then flopped onto her back. She stared at the ceiling until Akane plopped down next to her, head propped up on her hand.

Akane sighed. “He hasn’t exactly endeared himself to me, but I know you two used to be close, so it must be hard.”

“I still can’t figure out why. Shampoo said she couldn’t get anything out of him. When I ran into him in Shibuya, he stayed pretty tight lip too.”

“What’d Nabiki think?”

“Some crazy theory about him being gay and me breaking his heart in middle school.”

Akane glared back at him.

“Okay, maybe not so crazy. Still…if it’s true then it’s awful the way I hurt him.”

“You didn’t have much choice in the matter.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad.” Ranma playfully brushed a stray lock of hair out of the tomboy’s eyes. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old were you when you figured out that, you know, you were gay?”

Akane took a deep breath.  She took Ranma’s hand in hers, tracing circles on the girl’s palm with her thumb. “I suppose it was first year of middle school. I mean, I always felt different than the other girls, but I never knew what it was. Even then, I didn’t really want to out myself. There hard been a lot of ugly rumors, and the last thing I wanted to do was fulfill the stereotype.”

“Huh?”

“Macho lesbian girl. I started growing my hair out. I traded pants for cute floral skirts and dresses. It certainly made dad happy, but it left me miserable.” The tomboy’s eyes went misty. She blinked away the tears as she started to shrink into herself

The thought of Akane’s lonely middle school years broke Ranma’s heart. An impulse seized her; she pulled Akane into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry,” whispered the redhead.

Akane froze for a moment before wrapping her arms around Ranma. She shivered as the tension left her body. “Thank you…” she squeaked.

“I wish I could have been there for you.”

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

“We both had some fucked up middle school years.”

“Yeah. It was lonely, but I wasn’t totally alone. Yuka noticed my abrupt change, especially when all the boys started taking notice and how uncomfortable it made me. Still, it took almost a year to tell Yuka about it. You were the second person I’ve ever told about it.”

The butterflies were back. “It really helps me not feel so alone, knowing you. I don’t feel quite so strange when I’m around you.”

“No, you’re still weird. It’s just that I like weird.”

“Tomboy!”

“Idiot!”

* * *

Ranma went to bed exhausted and fell asleep with a smile on her face. The lucid dream began subtly. After the third round of the Martial Arts Ice Cream Eating Contest, where she fought this smug Frenchman in savage gastronomical combat to free Akane from his vile clutches, she suddenly felt the floor give out from under her.

She fell through inky blackness, through a kaleidoscope of starbursts, before plunging through this strange, immense device, like a cradle holding the sun. When she could scream no longer, she found the Earth right below her.

Her fall terminated with an icy cold plunge into the Cursed Springs of Jusenkyo. When she emerged, gasping for breath, all thoughts of her real life disappeared. Swearing eternal vengeance, she pulled herself from the spring. Her father bolted away, showing surprising agility for a rotund panda. She gave chase, ignoring the pleas from the Jusenkyo guide.

After tearing through the valley for twenty minutes, Pop managing to stay one step ahead of her, she was finally closing in. The old fart was wearing out, and as he huffed up the cliffside the gap was narrowing.

Some young man was gawking at the edge of the cliff. Her father, ever the pragmatist, decided to use him as an improvised barricade. She recognized the face of her old pal Ryouga right before they smashed into each other. She landed in a panting heap next to him.

Groaning, she propped herself up on her elbows. “Long time no see, Ryouga,” she gasped.

Straining, the boy sat up. “Um, do I know you mi—” His words turned into a scream as the cliff ledge gave out under him. She nearly went over the edge trying to catch him, but his hand was just a few inches out of reach. She watched helplessly as the boy tumbled down the cliff, into one of the Cursed Springs.

She slid down a shallower draw, fearing the worst. When she made it to the spring, a little black piglet wearing a familiar yellow bandana struggled out of the pool. “Ryouga?” she said, clutching at her chest.

“Bwee?”

“It is you, isn’t it?” she sighed, relief washing over her. A smile crept up on her face as she scooped up the little piglet. After fishing Ryouga’s clothes from the spring, she decided to give up on her chase. Her father was the last person she wanted to see right now.

After retrieving her pack, she found the guide huffing up. Exasperated, the man explained that the curses were not permanent, and could be reversed with hot water, though any further dunking with cold water would bring it back again. The murderous rage she was feeling towards her father subsided. She returned Ryouga to his proper form first and was quite amused at how embarrassed he was at being naked in front of her.

After tying up his pants, Ryouga turned to her. “So, you know my name but I can’t remember ever meeting you. Sorry.”

“Eh, it’s no problem. I don’t normally look like this. Once I heat up some more hot water, I’ll be back to normal.”

“Oh…” Ryouga said, crestfallen.

“We went to middle school together. Remember me? It’s Ranma,” she said, sticking the kettle back over the campfire.

Ryouga’s legs gave out and he fell flat on his ass. “No. It can’t be. After all I went through chasing after you, you can’t turn out to be this cute girl. I refuse!”

Ranma blinked. “Wait, you were chasing after me?”

“How could you forget. You ran out on our duel!”

She had well and truly forgotten about any duel. After a tense, silent moment wracking her brain, she finally remembered. “Ryouga, you idiot! I waited for three days. If it was that big a deal for you, I’d have shared the bread with you if you asked. Hell, once we get out of the sticks I’ll buy you some more.”

“This is not about bread!”

“It isn’t?”

Ryouga squared up, ready to fight. “It’s about the hell you’ve put me through. And now I’m cursed to turn into a goddamn pig.”

“You know, I didn’t ask you to follow me,” she said, clutching at her heart. She had nothing but fond memories of this boy, and yet when she looked at him all she could see was hatred on Ryouga’s face. It hurt her in a way she didn’t understand.

After returning to his birth form, he felt a strange sense of irritation. After pummeling some sense into the lost boy, he made the snap decision to get Ryouga home. Getting lost sounded like a good idea, and anything that got him away from his father was a good idea.

Ryouga would fight him every night after they made camp. He’d lose each time, but he was getting better. When they hiked through the Chinese countryside, they seldom talked except about matters related to food or shelter. They’d made it to the docks of Nanjing before Ryouga managed to say something non-hostile.

Ranma was in female form, wearing a qipao she’d ‘borrowed’ without asking. With a bit of flirtation, she’d managed to barter down the fare for their trip back to Japan. Like so many times before, she took Ryouga by the hand to keep him from getting lost. But this time, he didn’t resist. Instead, he gently squeezed her hand.

“Come on, we’re almost home buddy,” she cried, leading him up the gangway.

“Thanks,” the lost boy muttered.

“Eh, it was nothin’,” she said, smiling.

Their cabin was small, just two bunks, a footlocker and a tiny desk. But the mattress felt like heaven compared to the cold ground. Ryouga sat down next to her. He twiddled his thumbs, an unasked question evident on his face.

“What’s up, Ryouga?” she said.

“How do you do it? You play the girl so well. Sometimes I have a hard time remembering you’re a boy. And then other days you’re this macho strutting peacock.”

“That…that’s an uncomfortable question,” she said, squirming.

“Sorry, forget I asked.”

“No…I should talk about this. Else I’ll go crazy.” Taking a deep breath, she composed herself. “At first, I just thought of myself as playing a character. It was just a game. But soon, I couldn’t remember where the character ended and I began. Probably another thing that Pop fucked up in raisin’ me.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say much nice about your dad.”

She let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t have much nice to say about him. Jusenkyo was just the last straw. Maybe someday I’ll tell you about the Neko-ken. Or any of a half-a-hundred other times he put me through some stupid forbidden training technique cuz he didn’t read the warning label.”

Ranma tensed up, grabbing the sheets in white knuckle grip. Ryouga wrapped his arm around her shoulders. The anxiety bled away as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Or when he took me away from you. You were the first real friend I had since Ucchan, another person he took me away from cuz he was afraid I’d get soft.”

Ryouga patted her gently as he felt her tears begin to leak into his shirt. “I…if I had known you were hurting about it…I wouldn’t have been so angry. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. It’s Pop’s. Probably his fault that I like being a girl sometimes too. Just another way he screwed me up with his stupid ideas about martial arts.”

“Well, at least you know your family. We all get lost so often…we never see each other. They might as well not exist.”

She saw the tears welling up in his eyes. It hurt to see him so lonely. On impulse, she wiped the gathering tears away. The words came automatically: “Then I’ll be your family.”

That day, she decided to get away from her father permanently. Like all the other dreams of other lives, this one took Ranma back to Furinkan, ever the eye of the maelstrom. She enrolled at the familiar high school as Hibiki Yoiko, the adopted sister (and sometimes brother) of Ryouga.

* * *

She awoke feeling alone. The dream remained so vivid, and unlike previous dreams the memories didn’t fade. She turned over to see her father snoring away. She frowned, feeling like her heart was being torn in two. Her relationship with her father was never perfect, but it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it had been in the dream. “I love you, pop,” she whispered.

“Love you too, son…” Genma answered, and went right back to snoring.

It was still pitch black out, but Ranma decided there would be no more sleep tonight. The dream had left her feeling seven kinds of fucked up, and all that baggage was piling onto her own complicated mess.

Dealing with Ryouga was going to be complicated enough without her second life as Yoiko added in the mix. She’d already felt a twinge of fear when she realized how she felt about Ryouga was all too similar to how she felt about Akane. And while Yoiko had liked being his adopted sibling, her feelings for Ryouga weren’t entirely brotherly.

She felt sticky-slimy from sweat and the humidity. Feeling gross was putting a damper on her excitement about going to the beach. She slipped out from under the comforter and began rummaging around for some clean clothes, using the old phone Akane had given her as a flashlight.

She found a stack of her clothes, now washed and folded. Next to it was a smaller stack of Kasumi’s hand-me-downs, and unopened packages of boyshorts and sports bras. Smiling, she held the old clothes to her chest, feeling Kasumi’s sisterly love radiating from the crisp fabric. “Thanks nee-chan,” she whispered.

_I’m going to be cute today_ , she told herself _, and no one can stop me_. _Tomorrow I can be a manly stud, but right now I’m going to send Akane’s head spinning_. Her heart pounded at the thought. She tore open the underwear packages, and strutted off to the furo.

She ran into Akane just outside the bathroom. The tomboy glowed in the pale light. “We’re up early again,” said the tomboy with a smile.

“Yeah. Real excited about going to the beach. Feelin’ a bit sticky though.”

“Same. Daddy’s a bit of scrooge when it comes to the AC. We’ve got central AC, but he won’t turn it on until the official start of summer.”

“Him and my dad are two peas in a pod. Betcha he says that sweating ‘builds character’ or some nonsense.”

Akane chuckled. “Yup! I think he’s just salty that he didn’t got to grow up with AC.”

“So…you go first. I’ll wait.”

Akane shook her head vigorously. “Nah, we can share. ‘Sides, there’s something I wanna figure out.”

“What’s that?”

“What temperature you change at.”

Akane looked the redhead up and down. Ranma blushed, and tried to pretend she believed Akane was taking a merely studious interest in her body. “Alright then,” she gulped.

The Tendous lived rather on the plush, but it still surprised Ranma the kinds of luxury that money could buy now. Spending her life living on the road, it felt like she’d been teleported to a future of crystal spires and jetpacks. After disrobing, Akane started drawing the bath for the day. Something that apparently included a temperature control that allowed the user to pick a precise temperature for the water to be kept at all day.

Akane fiddled with the digital controls. “We’ll set it at 35° right now, just below body temperature. I have a hunch.”

They washed up while the pool filled. Ranma washed the tomboy’s hair and back, feeling the nervous tension just below the girl’s skin. She was glad that Akane was facing away; it helped hide the crimson blush on her face.

_This is just skinship between two friends_ , Ranma told herself, as she worked the shampoo into Akane’s hair. Akane let out an appreciative moan as she massaged the rich lather into the tomboy’s scalp. _Very close friends_.

The desire to touch more of Akane had almost become irresistible when she finished rinsing the shampoo out the girl’s hair. She let out a sigh of relief when they switched. She shut her eyes, and tried not to imagine all the things she wanted to do with that gorgeous tomboy. When the thought of taking Akane as a man flashed in her head, a pang of shame washed over her, and suddenly she felt like dirt.

“Just relax, perv,” said Akane, sensing the tension in her body. The girl meant well, but it wasn’t helping. Because she wanted to be with Akane just as much as a man as she did as a woman.

But as Akane washed her back, she felt some measure of peace return. The hands that scrubbed at her skin, massaged the sore muscles, and ran through her hair did it so gently, so reassuringly, it was like Akane already knew.

Akane undid her pigtail. “You had your hair done up differently when you came home. You fixed it before your dad got back, but I thought it was cute.”

“Yeah. Felt like playing with it.”

“It was cute. You should do it more often. Try new styles.”

The redhead cooed as Akane worked that wonderful bay rum shampoo into her hair. “Yeah, I think I will.”

“You’re pretty good at it. Where’d you learn?”

“Oh, I dabble. Pop and I fell in with some Martial Arts Thespians when I was in elementary. I learned a bit from them; pop thought acting was good martial arts practice.”

Akane rinsed the lather out of her hair. “That’s neat. Gonna have to leave your hair down for now. We’ll blow dry and brush it out afterwards.”

Ranma nodded. “So now we find out how warm the water can be before I change?”

Nervous, Ranma tiptoed over to the tub. She’d never spent much time trying to figure out just how much water or how hot it had to be to trigger the change. When she dipped a toe into the warm water, nothing happened. When she stepped into the tub, the water came up to her mid thigh, but still no change occurred.

She turned to Akane. “I mean, it’s definitely pretty warm, warmer than my skin, but I’m not changing.”

The tomboy tore her eyes away. “Um, try sitting down in it.”

Mostly submerged now, but still a girl. “Neat. So I can enjoy a warm bath as a girl.”

Akane stroked her chin thoughtfully. “Well, let’s see what happens now.” She began messing with the controls. The digital thermostat now read 38°. The heater clicked to life, and the water began to circulate.

“So just how fancy is this thing?”

“Well, dad spared no expense. It’s got whirlpool jets and an mp3 sound system.”

“Far out.”

“The future is now, Ran-chan.”

Ranma sat in the warm water, waiting for something to happen. Akane gently rubbed at the redhead’s shoulder, their eyes glued on the current temperature readout as it steadily climbed upwards.

When the readout reached 36.8°, Ranma’s skin began to tingle. She tensed up with the uncomfortable sensation of bugs crawling all over her skin. The change was coming like a car crash in slow motion. She couldn’t stand it any longer and leapt to her feet. Her body slowly stretched, bones lengthening, muscles shifting. The change had been uncomfortable and instantaneous before, but now it felt like her body was being put through a press.

It was hard to say how long it took, but it was at least several seconds of standing in the tub, hunched over as the change took its course. The pain and vertigo left as quickly as it came. “Yikes that hurt,” he hissed, “let’s never do this again.”

Akane stood in shock, nervously scratching at her arm. “Well…I clearly didn’t think this plan through.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s just say you’re just as well endowed as a guy as a girl. And apparently your level of… _excitement_ …carries over between forms.”

Ranma felt horrified at the realization, and dove back into the tub.

* * *

Akane slid down into the hot water next to where Ranma had curled himself up. He seemed to be taking this a lot more poorly than she was. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” she said, patting him on the back.

“I’m a little disgusted at myself.” He said, shrinking further into the water. He blew petulant bubbles as he sighed.

“Why? Honestly, I’m flattered. I was a little shocked, but I’m okay now. Because boy or girl, you’re still my Ranma. My friend. And I know you’d never hurt me.”

The boy reluctantly nodded.

“Sides, this means you can’t deny how much of the hots you have for me anymore.”

“Well, I never did _deny_ it. I just got all embarrassed and didn’t say anything whenever you or someone else brought it up.” He uncurled and relaxed against the back of the tub. “Water’s nice. Company’s nicer.”

She’d said it to reassure him, but it had been true. Boy or girl, he was still her Ranma, and when he got sweet like that it still made her blush. The body may have changed, but the soul hadn’t. She hid the frown on her face beneath the water. _It just means it will hurt more when someone who can love him as a man comes and sweeps him off his feet._ She was going to try her hardest not to think of that right now. “So what got you up so early?” she said, already guessing the answer.

“Had another really vivid dream.”

She nodded, recalling her own. “We always seem to have the same problem at the same times. Was yours more _real_ this time too? Not as fuzzy like remembering a dream, but like it actually happened?”

He nodded. “This one was different. All of ‘em so far had been pretty similar with just some minor differences.”

“Like the difference between the manga and the anime of something?”

“One: yes. Two: you absolute nerd.”

She blew him the raspberry. “Now that you mention it, this one couldn’t have fit in the same life as the previous ones, which seemed to build off each other.”

“In mine, I ended up becoming Ryouga’s adopted sister Yoiko. Which was really weird, cuz that’s the name I just pulled out of a hat when I ran into him yesterday as a girl.”

“Holy shit…”

“I know right?”

“No…there was a bratty twin-tailed girl in my dream going by Hibiki Yoiko. She transferred into Furinkan with her ‘brother’ Ryouga—”

“—and you thought she wasn’t actually his sister, cuz you were all bitchy with her fightin’ over Ryouga’s affections.”

“Holy shit! And he’s this clueless doofus who can’t tell there’s girls who have the hots for him.”

“How are we having the same dream?”

“I don’t want to think about it.”

“Odds are he’s gonna show up at the beach today. He kinda had this way of wandering about bein’ at the wrong place at the right time in the dream, and if his runnin’ into me yesterday is any indication, he’s like that in real life.”

A wolfish grin appeared on Akane’s face. “Well…at least I’ll get to see you in the cute swimsuit you picked out.”

Ranma slipped deeper into the water. “I hope you like it. Err…I hope it looks good,” he stammered.

Akane laughed as she sprawled out in the water. “Oh, never change, Ranma.”

He said, without a hint of irony, “I gotta though, I only brought girl’s clothes to wear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you might have guessed with the title, this was originally supposed to be a beach episode (because all anime must have at least one), but it grew in the telling trying to get the preliminaries taken care of that actually being at the beach is going to be relegated to its own chapter. We'll just have to leave you shivering with antici-pation.
> 
> It's not going to be all pain for our poor lost boy Ryouga, but the poor guy is sometimes his own worst enemy.
> 
> Special thanks to the wonderful inklesspen for all her help on this chapter, especially for the glimpse into another universe in the dream sequence. As always, thanks for reading and please leave your thoughts in a review. :)


	6. Sun's Out, Tits Out

**VI: Sun’s Out, Tits Out**

The grass tickled at Shan Pu’s skin as it swayed in the wind. She waited beneath her beachgrass ghillie; the bluff gave her a perfect observation arc over the waterfront. Her quarry would be hemmed in by the concrete jetty to the south and the embankments rimming the beach.

The morning’s sirocco had tapered off. They’d be here soon. Then she’d strike. Saotome Genma would pay for all that he’d put the Amazon through.

At last, he arrived. The portly man ambled onto the beach, hefting a large plastic cooler. A parasol was tucked in the crook of his arm. Shan Pu took a deep breath as she flicked the safety off on her Norinco.

 _One shot, one kill_ , she chanted to herself. When he was a mere ten meters of away, Genma dropped the heavy chest at his feet. Squinting, his gaze turned towards Shan Pu.

His eyes widened as she popped to her knees, leveling her QBZ-03 at the target. His screech turned into a low ‘growf’ as the stream of high-pressure water soaked through his gi. Before the rest of the Tendo and Saotome family could react, Shan Pu raked the stream of water across their swimsuit clad bodies.

“Aiyah! Victory to Shan Pu!” she cried, pumping the now drained replica into the air.

Ranma sputtered water out of her mouth. “Ah man, you soaked through this cute shirt. I can’t wear it ‘til it dries now.”

Her panda of a father turned to her, cocking his thick brows. Soun’s mustache jittered.

“I mean, you soaked my totally functional and not at all cute shirt.”

Unlike Ranma, who’d been wearing a t-shirt and shorts over her blue and green one-piece, Akane had not changed out of her street clothes. The veins popped on the tomboy’s forehead as an aura of grey grumpiness filled the air. “Shampoo!” she cried, “now I’m soaked!”

“Yeah. We at beach. It’s gonna happen,” said Shampoo, rolling her eyes. “Ahem…chicken’s done.”

“What—oh.” The wet t-shirt was not leaving much to imagination, even after Akane crossed her arms over her chest.

Nabiki had already taken off her over-sized tee, dabbing the extra moisture off her skin. “Sorry sis, looks like you’re going to have to put on the swimsuit now.” The mercenary girl’s side-tie bikini was giving Shan Pu new ideas for mischief.

Akane flushed red with embarrassment. “I…I can’t.”

Kasumi finished ringing the water out of her pony tail. “Oh, so much energy,” she hummed, “You kids go have fun, we’ll set up here.

Shan Pu sighed as she sloughed off the ghillie. Out of pure habit, she cleared the Norinco, removing the (fake) magazine and cycled the (purely cosmetic) action before returning it to safety. “Come, Shan Pu know good place get changed.”

“But—”

“Shan Pu sorry if she ruin your day. But not want you give up yet.”

Before Akane could object, Nabiki shoved a handbag into her arms, and gave her a swat on the back. “Go on, Sis. Your mope is going to be a major buzzkill.”

Akane took a few stumbling steps towards Shan Pu. She glared at the soldier girl and tromped onwards. She still (reluctantly) took Shan Pu’s hand as she helped Akane up the bluff. The tomboy blushed as she was she pulled into Shan Pu’s arms, their faces centimeters apart. A smile curled on Akane’s lips before disappearing as quickly as it came. “I’m still mad at you, you know.”

“Shan Pu know.” The Amazon leaned closer to whisper, “don’t you want Ranma see how beautiful you are?”

The faint blush on Akane’s cheeks spread over the rest of her face. “She’s—she’s already seen me.”

“Yeah, and doesn’t that just make tomboy want Ranma to see more?”

“Sh-shut up,” muttered Akane.

“Yes, now we go get changed to swimsuits,” said Shan Pu all too loudly. “Absolutely no peeking.”

Ranma was busy helping Kasumi set up the parasols and beach blankets.

“Ahem, I said, ‘Absolutely no peeking.’ Especially by Ranma.”

Ranma wiped the sweat from her forehead. “Oh, Shampoo, did you say something?”

Akane found it amusing enough to forget about being mortified. Shampoo growled and took her by the hand, leading her down the sandy path. “Sometimes forget airen still stupid boy sometimes.”

Akane let out a heavy sigh. “Me too.”

After cresting the hill, the two came upon a small rest area complete with showers. Shan Pu led Akane over to her olive green UJM-style motorbike. She began rifling through the saddlebags for her swimsuit.

“What happened to the bike?” asked Akane.

“Shan Pu have no desire to have connection with anything that does not go fast; Shan Pu intends to go in harm’s way.” She grinned to let the girl know she was only half-serious. “Besides, have you tried bicycle around Tokyo? It take _forever_.”

Akane nodded. “Why are you teasing Ranma like that?” she blurted.

Shan Pu blinked. “You serious? I want him to peek.”

Akane took a half-step back. “Lewd!”

Shan Pu unzipped her digital camo jacket, leaving it draped over the seat of the motorcycle. When her sports bra followed it, Akane began to protest.

“You’re getting changed? Here?”

Shan Pu took a quick look around. “Yeah. Is private here.”

“But we’re out in the open.”

“Violent-girl can get changed in the showers if she want. But it just waste of time. No one is going to come look. And even if they do, it’s not like you have anything to be ashamed of.”

“Sh-shut up,” said Akane, blushing. “Why are you so brazen all the time with her…him.”

Shan Pu slipped on her pink floral bikini top before stepping out of her trousers. She paused for a pensive moment. She thumbed through her dog tags, eyes flitting between the silvery metal and Akane. “This may sound crazy…but Shan Pu has been seeing glimpses of other worlds in her dreams.”

“You too?”

Shan Put felt the weight lift from her chest. “Glad I’m not alone. Akane and Ranma always in the dreams. Different each time, but one thing always stays same. Ranma always prefer you.”

“They’re just strange dreams, Shampoo.”

 _Maybe_. “Either way, is not time for moping. Is time for sun and surf!” Akane let out a little eep when Shan Pu turned to her, grinning with mischief. “Come on, time to strip!”

* * *

The surf was calling to Ranma. Board tucked under her arm, she charged out to the waterfront. The cold water stabbed at her as she darted across the slick sand, into the tidewater. When the water was up to her knees, she dove onto her board, and paddled through the salty spray.

She could feel the swell coming, like electricity dancing across her skin. There was a big one coming and she wasn’t about to miss it. She coasted to a stop and slipped off her board into the deep blue water. The shock of the cold passed soon. She floated above a tranquil abyss, looking back at the little specks on the shore.

“Hey Ranma!”

Her focus broke. She was no longer one with the sea. It took her a moment to recognize the boy trying to get her attention. “Oh hey…Daisuke, right?”

The boy shook his head. “No, it’s Hiroshi. I don’t know why people can’t keep us straight. I’ve got light brown hair.”

“It’s not light brown when it’s wet.”

Hiroshi paddled up closer, steadying himself on her shoulder. “Oh…I guess you have a point. Ya surfing?”

“No, I’m practicing the Shark Fist,” she deadpanned. “I have to wrestle a Great White and take his teeth to prove I’ve mastered it.”

“Really?”

She smacked him playfully. “No you idiot, I’m surfing.”

Hiroshi rubbed the small lump forming on his head. “So, you come here often?”

“First time. Waves are pretty small right now but I can feel a gnarly one coming.”

“Awesome. You know, I’m actually a pretty rad surfer myself. I once rode a three-meter monster all the way to shore.”

The gears in her head clicked. Hiroshi had wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a pretty sly way. Now he was bragging. The dude was flirting with her even though he knew she was born male. _Far out_. She decided to brush it off in her usual way. “That’s pretty cool. You know what’s cooler? Surfing in a tropical storm.”

“Yer pullin’ my leg.”

“Nope. Pop and I barnstormed this surf ninja dojo in Hawai’i on our travels. To advance the Anything Goes art, we had to take their sign, and so they challenged us to a Martial Arts Surfing contest.”

“Holy cow, that’s amazing. Tell me mo—”

“—Ssh!” she barked. She felt the hum of the approaching wave. “It’s time.” She mounted her board swiftly, nudging the bow to the shore. Hiroshi pulled himself up onto his board soon after. At the very least, he hadn’t been outright lying about his surfing experience.

She started paddling forward. Looking back, she saw the wave beginning to swell. Hiroshi followed, behind and to her left. She jumped atop the board as the swell reached her, riding the slope of the mountain of water.

“Gah, it’s too big!” cried Hiroshi.

“Just relax, Hiro and take it bit by bit.” She whooped with joy as the surging wave started to crest, rolling into a tube. She steered into the sweet spot, just ahead of the rolling wave, inching into the tube.

The wave swallowed up Hiroshi first. The water began to engulf her next. Heart pounding, blood surging, she let out a final cry before sucking in a deep breath. The wave crashed over her, knocking her from the board. She shut her eyes as the roiling surf spun her about. When her lungs start to burn, she felt the wet sand beneath her. The water receded, leaving her washed up on the beach. She stood on unsteady legs, spitting out a mouthful of seaweed and saltwater. “Woohoo,” she said gently this time. Tough as she was, she was still a little banged up by Davy Jones’ spin cycle.

She trudged over to where Hiroshi lay flopping like a fish. “You’re good kid, real good,” she said, taking his hand. “But as long as I’m around, you’ll always be second best.”

The other surfers began hooting and wolf-whistling. She beamed, drinking in the attention as she helped Hiroshi to his feet. His legs began to shake, so she slung his arm over her shoulder to steady him.

After getting him and their boards out of the tidewater, she deposited the still dazed Hiroshi under Daisuke’s parasol.

“Oh hey Saotome,” said Daisuke. “Nice swimsuit. Sexy, but not too sexy.”

Ranma chuckled. “Oh, so you’re going the direct approach instead of bragging yourself up and getting all feely like Hiroshi here.”

“Hey, can’t blame a guy for trying. Though if you would prefer the other approach, I’ve got some suntan lotion. I’d be more than happy to help you with those hard to reach places.”

Ranma grinned with mischief. “Okay then.” She slipped out of the back of her one-piece, cupping the loose fabric in front of her chest.

The bright red flush rose up Daisuke’s body like a thermometer. “Gah…”

“Just like I thought; you’re like a dog chasing a car. You wouldn’t know what to do with her if you actually caught her. Oh well, I changed my mind.” She slipped the one-piece back over her head.

As she began walking back towards the Tendo-Saotome picnic, Daisuke cried, “You were just foolin’ right? You weren’t actually gonna?”

She blew him the raspberry. “I guess you’ll never know now.”

After a few paces, the smile ran from her face. She wasn’t sure what had come over her. Once she’d taken a step back from the moment, it surprised her how okay she was with boys coming onto her. She told herself it was just some teasing, but she didn’t know if she actually would have put her money where her mouth was. Before coming to Nerima, the answer would have been a stern ‘no.’

But this troubling line of thought was derailed when she caught sight of Akane in her banana-yellow one piece. She stopped short, mesmerized, watching Akane get lost in building a sand-castle with Shampoo. The sun glinted off the thin-sheen of sweat, highlighting the muscle definition in her biceps and thighs.

When she absent-mindedly dropped her surfboard, Akane’s gaze turned to her. Their eyes met with a mutual blush. Then Ranma found herself being brought sharply back to reality by a flying tackle from Shampoo.

A whirl of stars filled the blue sky. Shampoo stayed glomped on top of her, nuzzling at her cheek. “Aiyah, Ranma come play with Shampoo?”

“Did anyone catch the number of that bus…” Ranma groaned. She shook her head, and the whirling sensation receded.

Akane came stomping over. She grabbed Shampoo by the shoulder and began to pry her off. “Hey, get off of her.”

“Ooh violent-girl hardly contain herself. Be gentle with Shampoo,” the Amazon teased.

Akane let her guard down an inch. “Not like that, idiot!”

Ranma started pulling herself up, only to be smashed flat again by the tangle of Akane and Shampoo tumbling down on her. Heads must have knocked together, because the world began to spin yet again.

When the disorientation passed, Ranma opened her eyes to find Akane propped up on her elbows atop Ranma, rubbing her forehead. “Hey, you okay?” said Ranma.

“Yeah, just a minor bump.”

Akane’s rose pink lips were just inches away. The tomboy’s body pressed down her pleasantly. Her hand had found the small of Akane’s back by instinct. Lost in the moment, Akane smiled down at her.

“Would you two get a room already,” said Nabiki. The magic of the moment had been dispelled.

Akane quickly rolled off her. “It was an accident!”

“Yes…an ‘accident,’” said Shampoo, holding up air quotes.

Ranma remembered the gulf between Akane and her as she sat up. A little voice in her head cried _Fake!_ She sighed, looking at her dainty feet and the delicate hands she used to pull her knees to her chest. It all had a fleeting, mirage-like quality to it. At any time she was one cup of tea away from being revealed as a fake girl.

She knew Akane hadn’t meant to, but it felt like the tomboy had stuck a knife in her. And when Akane look back at her, embarrassed from the scene they’d made, Ranma realized she’d learned Pop’s lesson of not showing weakness to the enemy so well, she’d remembered it in her bones.

So well, in fact, she was up and spouting half-lies about going to get everyone some treats as she marched off. Off to lick her wounds before anyone knew what was up, like a proper coward.

 _What a great way to start the day at the beach_ her inner voice mocked. _You went ahead and got all attached to something you can’t have again. Way to go, Saotome_. She found her sandals and trudged off to the boardwalk.

The sights and smells proved to be a decent enough distraction from the uncomfortable thoughts. The only problem now was choosing. _That’s always the problem._ Ice cream or cotton candy. The art or Ryouga. Okonomiyaki or Ucchan…there was a name she hadn’t remembered in a long time.

She looked longingly at the okonomiyaki stand in front of her. She remembered Ucchan, her best friend in the whole wide world, chasing after the yatai on his little legs. She let out a heavy sigh. “Guess I better live with that choice.”

She sat down in the one open seat, between a drunk salaryman and a tall boy in a black gakuran. She ordered a deluxe, letting the thought of food nudge out the worries in her chest. The boy next to her craned his head.

“Look, I’m not interested, okay,” said Ranma.

“Not on the market, sugar,” said the boy. “It’s just that you look strangely familiar, like an old friend from childhood.”

“Well that can’t be the case.” Just in case, though, she swiveled to him. The boy was tall and handsome, with long brown-hair tied back in a ponytail. She extended a hand in greeting, “Saotome.”

The boy shook her hand firmly. “Kuonji.”

Kuonji was more than a little familiar. Probably because he looked like every bishounen romantic lead. “Aren’t you a little overdressed, Kuonji-san?”

Kuonji shrugged. “I just like the look.”

“So you’re from Kansai then? What brings you to Tokyo?”

“Looking to expand the family business.” He tucked into his okonomiyaki, chewing thoughtfully. “Family’s in the okonomiyaki business, so I thought I’d scope out the local competition.”

“Neat.”

“Also looking to get revenge on a certain man,” said Kuonji, his words like steel.

She laughed. “Oh wow, you really are checking off all the boxes on the brooding check list. Spill it, you’re really an actor trying to get in character right?”

“It’s not a joke!”

“Oh really? What’s next then? Your family have its own school of martial arts?”

“Well, yeah?”

“You and everyone else, bub.”

“You are an awfully mouthy little brat, aren’t you? I oughta teach you a lesson.”

“Oh? You and what army?”

The shopkeeper set a plate in front of Ranma, then pointed to the rules sign:

 

> Rule 1: No martial arts challenges on the premises.  
>  Rule 2: No discounts to flirty young women.  
>  Rule 3: No martial arts challenges on the premises.  
>  Rule 4: Anyone complaining that it’s better in Osaka will be asked to leave.  
>  Rule 5: No martial arts challenges on the premises.  
>  Rule 6: There is no rule 6.  
>  Rule 7: No martial arts challenges on the premises.

Ranma blinked. “I feel attacked.”

Kuonji hissed, “That’s my line.”

“Well, why don’t you come around to Furinkan High this time next week and see if you can put your money where your mouth is.”

“Sounds great! I can’t wait.”

* * *

Akane was just about ready to set out looking for Ranma when the redhead came stomping back. Ranma was muttering something about “—call me ‘mouthy little brat’, I’ll show him.”

Akane felt the relief wash over her. “Where’ve you been?”

Ranma pulled a drink from the cooler and plopped down next to Akane. “Oh, just looking around. Managed to get myself another martial arts challenge.”

Nabiki looked over the edge of her magazine. “My my, Ranma-kun, you’re collecting lovers at an alarming rate.”

Ranma spat out her juice. “Lover ain’t got nothing to do with it. He insulted me, we’re going to settle this like men.”

“Knowing you,” Akane sighed, “you probably stuck your foot in your mouth first.”

“Hey!”

Nabiki chuckled. “Oh Ranma, while you were off strutting like a peacock, Shampoo here was touching Akane in places she’d never been touched before.”

Akane was too mortified to interject immediately. Shampoo seemed to revel in the drama. And while Ranma was initially confused, once she put two and two together she turned red as a beet.

“Perv,” growled Akane.

“Shampoo not want tongzhi to sunburn,” said Shampoo, hiding behind a smile of false innocence. “Do you next?”

“I dunno if I’m ready for that kind of—oh, you meant the sunscreen,” said Ranma, sheepishly poking her fingers together.

“Like I said, perv,” Akane huffed.

“Come, lay down. This will cool off Ranma’s temper,” said Shampoo, already reaching for the sunscreen.

“Fine!” cried Ranma. “It’s only cuz I don’t wanna get burned. Nothing more.”

Akane’s face screwed up, but she decided not to pour anymore gasoline on the fire right now. _Fine, let that hussy rub you up and down all you want. See if I care._

Ranma pulled her head out of the collar of her one-piece, taking no care to preserve her modesty. After flashing the whole beach, she flopped onto her belly on the beach towel. Shampoo looked pointedly at Akane, wiggling her eyebrows. Akane crossed her arms with a huff as she looked away.

Akane suddenly felt very silly. _What reason do I have to be territorial over Ranma? I mean, she needs…he needs someone who can love him as a man._ She watched out of the corner of her eye in spite of herself. Ranma visibly relaxed as Shampoo rubbed the sunscreen into her skin. It was making it suddenly very hard to believe that Ranma needed someone else.

Kasumi called them over to lunch. Ranma disappeared in a cloud of sand, leaving Shampoo blinking.

“Ranma certainly loves her food,” Akane tutted. When Shampoo remained transfixed, she pulled the confused Amazon to her feet.

Shampoo growled. “Was too too close! One more minute and Shampoo would have told her.”

Akane’s eyebrow twitched. “You were gonna do what?”

“Shampoo give you every opportunity to spit it out. But if you not going to, then you snooze you lose.”

“But it’s so soon…are you sure…I mean it’s not like I’m jealous over him,” Akane said, panic rising in her chest.

“Oh? Maybe you jealous over me then?”

Akane huffed and turned away. “That’s utterly ridiculous,” she said, straining.

“Shampoo think you getting a little hangry.” The Amazon pinched Akane’s cheek and dragged her over to Kasumi’s little picnic. “Come on, let’s get the beast fed.”

As Akane tucked into one of the hand-made bentos, she had to admit that Shampoo was right. Not about the jealousy part, oh no siree. But she definitely got angry when she was hungry. Shampoo had brought plenty of healthy snacks and drinks to go along with their picnic. Quite fortunate, considering Ranma was particularly ravenous today.

While she munched on a fruit and nut bar, her father and Uncle Genma cracked open their third beer. Soun took a deep gulp, forgetting the beer koozie this time. “Ah Saotome, doesn’t this bring you back?”

Genma hiccupped. “Indeed my old friend. When we were young men, and I had such beautiful, lustrous brown hair, the envy of man and woman alike.”

“I find that hard to believe,” scoffed Ranma.

“Oy, show some respect, boy. Where do you think you got your hair from? Indeed, where it not for my hair, Tendo here would have never met his beautiful wife.” His expression turned solemn.

Soun wiped a tear from his eye. “My dear Kimiko…it’s true though.” Her father’s mustache twitched as he chuckled. “Saotome and I were at a beach not unlike this one, competing at the finals of the Tokyo Martial Arts Beach Volleyball championship.”

Akane crushed her empty coffee can. “You never told us this story, daddy.”

Soun glanced over at Genma. The two distinguished men blushed as they shared a knowing look. “Well…there are parts of it that a father can’t share with his children.”

Akane was going to try very hard to pretend she didn’t hear or see that. Nabiki cackled something about the price of her silence, and Ranma seemed completely oblivious.

* * *

Kuonji fumed as he schlepped his luggage up the narrow staircase. The apartment had been too good to be true. Spacious, well furnished with a full kitchen, all for a very reasonable price. He’d snapped it up after tamping down his well-founded doubts.

The ad had neglected to mention the building was on the verge of condemned, the neighborhood was a demilitarized zone. And to top it off, not only was it on the sixth floor and the elevator was broken, it was perched right atop what he was sure was an illegal night club that filled the bottom five floors.

This was the price he would have to pay for revenge it seemed. He dropped his rucksack in the middle of the apartment. Booming bass speakers rumbled through his feet. It wasn’t even six yet. Letting out a groan, he tossed his keys on the counter top.

He decided to stoke the fires of the revenge burning within him to help shut out the misery. He opened a plain manila folder and thumbed through the documents once again. The first was a school registration for a Saotome Ranma, about the right age. It had cost all too much to get. _This must be the right Saotome Ranma_ , he thought, trying to forget all the red herrings he’d tracked down to no avail.

No mother was listed, but the father was listed as Genma. The mailing address was in the Furinkan ward.

At last, Kuonji Ukyo would get revenge for his stolen youth. After he dealt with that pint-sized upstart from earlier. It felt like fate mocking him. Saotomes were a dime a dozen and he’d managed to start a scrap with yet another one so close to the finish line. The gakuran’s collar rubbed awkwardly at his neck. Alone now, he could remember what he’d forced himself to set forget every day.

He sloughed off the jacket and white undershirt, exposing the sarashi wrapped tightly around his chest. As he unwrapped the cloth, Ukyo remembered her long neglected femininity. Yet another thing Saotome Genma had stolen from her.

Here in Tokyo, she was free of her father’s scornful gaze, and could momentarily forget the shame she’d brought on the family. She enjoyed her time as a boy. She’d enjoy it more once she proved she was a better man than either Ranma or Genma. They would pay soon enough.

Her stomach growled. But first, dinner. Then vengeance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last! The long delayed actual beach episode! And a completely gratuitous homage to Monty Python's "Bruces" sketch. I’ve elected to introduce the main cast sooner rather than later, so we’re going to have a properly Rumic pile up. Not much else to say except let me know what you think in the reviews/comments.


End file.
